Of Lords and Tacticians: Error 404
by The Silver Storyteller
Summary: After an escape attempt gone wrong, a girl from beyond the Dragon's Gate arrives in an unfamiliar land on the brink of war. Before she can do anything about it, she is swept up into the local peace-keeping group as a long-standing blood feud threatens to erupt anew. Part of The Lords and Tacticians Series.
1. Chapter 1

Of Lords and Tacticians: Error 404 - Chapter 1

* * *

-Chapter 1-

-Destination not Found-

* * *

A little figure lay motionless on ground, almost hidden in the grass. She shifted a bit as an insect strolled across her forehead, then thrashed violently, as if she had been prodded with a hot poker, and scrambled up to a sitting position.

Barley sat still for a moment, breathing heavily, and squinting in the bright light of the field.

Where was she? What had happened, why was she… why was...

She jumped up, with her long mess of brown hair flying up with equal electricity. Any attempt to calm herself had liquidized. She was in a field that stretched away in all directions, and faded away to blue nothing in the distance. There were a few sparse trees here and there, and a building of some sort in the distance, but those were the only things that broke the monotony before her, and aside from a few birds overhead, and the drum of insects, there was no sign of life.

Something had gone wrong.

She should not be in the middle of nowhere like this.  
Then a rather disturbing of a thought struck her: where were Aaron and Vileet?

Barley shouted, calling their names into the emptiness, but there was no response. She didn't understand, they couldn't be far, she had seen them go through the portal less than a minute before she had.

There was a sound of tramping from a stand of trees a bit behind her. Her heart leaped with excitement, then shriveled as she listened more intently to the sound. The tread was too heavy by far to belong to either of her friends.

She ducked down in the tall grass. The footsteps milled around for a short time, apparently looking for her, though they never getting too uncomfortably close. A man's voice called from a distance away, she couldn't make out what it said. The steps hesitated, then tramped back the way they had come with a long, even stride.

Barley stayed put until the steps faded away, then began to move cautiously in the opposite direction. The thought that the portal may not have shut in time was creeping around in her mind now, and if anybody else had made it through, she had exactly zero desire to meet them.

There was no sign that she was being followed, or had even been seen, but she kept her head down anyways. Hopefully the tall grass would make her harder to spot if anyone happened to look in her direction.

She set on the structure as her destination, as it was the only distinguishable landmark in site, and had the most potential to help her figure out where she was. As she got closer, she realized that the building was much bigger than she had originally thought.

It was a pure white archway, at least five stories high with ornate symbols carved over its polished surface, and that was it. There were no other buildings, no people, or any sign of them, just the huge arch.

It was definitely interesting, but as far as Barley was concerned, it didn't help much. The architecture was completely foreign to her, and she couldn't make out any of the symbols etched across it; for all she knew, they could just be decorations.

And since it was the only thing in sight that wasn't grass or a tree, anyone who had been dropped in the area would probably wind up there sooner than later. Friendly or not.

A soft breeze was picking up, it smelled like ocean. Somewhere in front of her, there must be a coast. That would probably be the best place to work from, instead of wandering around aimlessly in this field, or waiting for trouble in the shadow of the arch. Barley plowed forward, feeling confident enough that she wasn't being immediately followed to exchange some stealth for speed.

Naturally, she went under the arch. It was right in front of her, and rather a wide thing to detour around for no apparent reason, but as it turned out, it wasn't a terribly smart thing to do. As soon as she was between the pillars, she was hit by a wave of vertigo that nearly knocked her down, there was a soft white nothingness.

And then she was somewhere else.

To Barley's credit, she didn't yell out. She did make a squashed kind of choking sound, but she didn't squeal.

She stood in the archway, staggering a bit, and doing her best not to fall as her sense of balance returned. The smell of sea was overwhelming now, and the wind was cold and laced with spray. When she got her vision back, she saw a bank of coarse grass running into sand, and choppy, dull grey ocean beyond.

By this time Barley had no kind feelings for the arch left. As far as she was concerned, it could throw itself into the grey ocean, but buildings don't tend to do stuff like that on there own, so she contented herself with the prospect of getting as far away from the thing as she could.

She didn't get very far though.

"Well, hello there, girly! Where did you come from?" said a cheery, sing-song voice.

Barley whipped around, instinctively backpedaling to a safer distance and looking for whoever had spoken.

They weren't hard to spot. It was a young, violently red-haired woman. She was sitting on a rock in front of the arch, head cocked in Barley's direction.

"I…" Stuttered Barley. She had no idea what to say. How could one even answer a question like that in her situation?

"I-" she started again, but was cut short by the sound of heavy boots and clanking metal. It seemed to be coming from inside the arch, but there was nothing there. She twisted around to the other side of the one of the pillars, and crouched down in it's shadow.

There was another white flash, causing Barley to have to shield her eyes. When she could look again, three men were standing under the arch. One of them wore heavy armor, and another, a hooded cloak. The last of them, Barely assumed to be their leader by the way he carried himself in front, had the most perplexing shade of deep blue hair she had ever seen. None of them were people she recognized.

They didn't seem to notice Barley at all as they walked on, right past the red haired woman, and on towards the beach.

"Well, that was a total waste of time." Said the leader as they passed. Neither of the others answered.

Barley let out a silent breath of relief. Not that she particularly wanted to meet these people either, but at least they weren't the mercenaries she had been expecting. She watched as the group made its way onto the sand and started circling along the beach.

Barley looked over to see that the red haired woman was watching her, in rather an amused fashion. She still hadn't moved from her rock. Barley stood up rather awkwardly.

"Excuse me," she asked.

"Yes sweetie?"

"Has anybody else been here in the last few hours?"

The woman looked thoughtful.

"Well, other than those three, she said, glancing at the group who had just passed, "No. It's an awful small island, if anyone was here I would know,, and nobody's come through the gate."

"Thank you," said Barley. She must have looked quite concerned, because the woman frowned at her pityingly.

Barley took a deep breath. If nobody had been here before her, then she could very well be in much more trouble than she had originally thought. She needed a new plan of action, to find out where she was. But this was an island, a small one at that if the woman could be trusted. And Barley didn't really seen any reason why she would lie about something like that.

Then a thought struck her. Those other people must have their own way off the island.

Barley started to follow after them briskly, trying to cover some lost ground; she didn't know exactly what she was going to do, but she knew she didn't want lose them.

She looked behind her briefly to see the woman at the arch wave her a happy goodbye.

It didn't take her long to close most of the gap, though she still hung behind a good ways. Barley hadn't made up her mind on whether or not she actually wanted these people to see her. She made up her mind quickly though, when the cloaked one turned back to give one last look at the arch. Barley flattened herself in the grass until he began to walk away again.

Soon, Barley could see where they were headed, a mid-sized boat moored to the water's edge. There was ramp leading out from it's side onto the beach. Now that she had something to work with, Barley started to build a plan of action. She had a vague idea of slipping on board somehow without being noticed, and stowing away until they reached the mainland. She could see it where she was, a low black strip on the horizon. It didn't seem all that far away. She flattened against the ground as the cloaked man turned back to look around one last time, before quickening his pace to catch back up with the others. Barley waited a good long minute before she started to move again.

The three of them stopped for a moment and talked between each other when they reached the ramp, though Barley wasn't able to make out anything that was said, then made their way into the boat. The hooded one went last, after giving one last look around the island.

He seemed to be doing that a lot, and Barley wondered if he suspected her presence. She knew that this whole thing wasn't one of her smarter ideas, but she didn't really have a lot of options right now, and the boat was leaving.

She ran forward onto the beach as soon as they were out of sight on board. As quietly as she could, she clambered up the side of the ship and peaked onto the deck. There weren't many people on-board, at least that she could see. Everyone seemed to be huddling around the newcomers. Barley swung over the edge and ducked behind a stand of barrels.

The boat lurched as is slid from the sand bank, causing Barley to fall over. She stayed down, flat against the deck as the boat tossed around with the waves. She didn't dare brace herself against the barrels for fear of knocking one over and blowing her cover.

As the boat started to move, the little knot of people broke up, getting to the usual chores of launching. As they got away from the shore, the waves got less harsh. Barley re-situated herself against the edge of the boat, bracing herself against future turbulence.

• • •

The trip was surprisingly short, the boat floated into port not but a half-hour later. The crew quickly busied themselves moving the cargo on the deck off-ship. Barley began to get nervous again as one of the barrels she was behind was taken away. If she didn't move soon, her cover was going to completely disappear.

She pushed herself up carefully, staying behind the other barrel, waiting for the right time to risk moving. Everyone seemed occupied, and when the time was right, she silently swung over the side of the ship, scaling down the way she had come. Or at least, that was the plan.

Just before she made it over, a hand shot out and grabbed the hood of her sweater, causing Barley to bang against the side of the ship. She gasped, fumbling with the two fastened buttons as the person tried to haul her back into the boat. The clasp gave just in time, and she fell into the water with a splash.

It was frigid. Barley fumbled in the water, trying to scramble up the side of the pier. It took a few precious seconds, but she made it up, and instantly started to run. She could see out of the corner of her eye that several people from the ship were already giving chase

Barley wove across the dock. It was crowded, and she was small, and she intended to use it to her full advantage. Behind her, she heard her pursuers shouting for the people to make way, to her alarm, the people seemed all too willing to comply. She ducked into an alleyway, right into a dead end.

Barley backed up into the crates and barrels littering the back of the ally, teeth grit, holding her breath in anticipation. Then watched as the people who were chasing her ran right by, not even sparing the alley a glance.

Barley didn't move right away, just ducked down where she was, dripping wet. There was a commotion outside of the alleyway, more shouting, and the milling hum of the confused crowd. A few more people from the boat ran past. Then one, following more slowly, stopped in front of it.

"Hello? Who's back here?" A concerned voice called out.

Barley stayed still, and tried to control her breathing, which had probably given her away, though it was obvious by now he knew someone was there . He was walking slowly into the alley, squinting into the shadows. Barley raked the ally for any other way out, forcing herself to stay calm. The man was getting closer. Uncomfortably close, poking behind the first row of barrels. With an explosive movement, she jumped up, scrabbling on top of the barrels. Up on top of the crate she had been hiding behind, then jumped again, catching ahold of the gutter on the edge of the roof. The man stepped back in surprise, giving her just enough time to clamber onto the slates.

It took a minute for the man him to process what just happened.

"Hey, I found them! They're on the roofs!" He yelled back, trying to get his comrades attention. A moment later, several of them came running back.

The cloaked fellow from the island practically ran straight up the wall to get on the the roof. Barley didn't look back, just ran, weaving between chimneys and trying not to slide off the angled panels.  
"Hey, just wait a minute!" The man behind her called.

Barely could tell he was gaining on her, chewing away at her precious lead. She knew she couldn't keep up this kind of pace for long, and her wet shoes were causing her to slip dangerously.

Braced herself against a chimney to keep herself from completely falling off, only to find her sleeve frozen to the brick as she tried to pull away. "There… Hey, everyone! I caught them! Can someone get up here to help?" The man called down, snapping a large book shut in his hand as he approached her.

Barley strained against the ice, teeth grit against the burning cold seeping into her arm. The ice gave finally, with a crack like splintered glass, but the release sent her tumbling down the roof. The man behind her gave a cry of alarm as she fell.

Barely managed to snag the edge of the gutter as she fell. It made a loud groan, before the thin metal clips holding it in place gave way, dropping Barley into a pile of crates below.

It wasn't that far a drop, thankfully, and Barely was quickly back on her feet. The man chasing her was slower to get down, buying her some precious seconds to get ahead.

There was another crowd outside the alley she had fallen into. Barley sprinted straight for it, then slowed just before ducking into it. No need to attract more attention than was necessary.

Behind her, she heard the man hit the ground, quickly followed by a few others. They saw her disappear in the mass of people, but had to stop at the edge of the crowd; pushing through would just about cause a riot, and they knew it. There were some rather loud words exchanged between them that didn't sound very happy, but they were lost to Barley over the sea of voices around her.

• • •

Barley kept moving, giving wary glances behind her from time to time, but as no one appeared, she began to calm down. The whole street was some sort of market district it seemed, which explained the crowds. Stalls were thrown up everywhere, just awnings thrown out over a bit of porch and street, with crates and baskets stacked underneath, as much for storage of goods as making counters to work from. Merchants had crammed as much of their merchandise as possible into these nooks, and where loudly jibing for the attention of passing crowds. Barley was rather grateful for her slim frame as she wove through the mess. Once she was sure she wasn't being followed anymore, she slipped in between two stalls to catch her breath more fully, one selling dried goods, the other selling fish.

Barely sat down on a small basket and panted. This whole situation had not gone as planned, and she was still no closer to finding out where she was. She needed to get out of town, she wouldn't be able to do much with those people looking for her.  
"Um, excuse me, miss?" A tiny voice asked, peering between the small gap. "Are you OK?"

Barley jumped more than was good for appearances. "Y-yes." She choked.

The voice quickly went from more concerned to upbeat. "Well, that's good. I was just worried that something happened to you, being all wet and, you know, hide-y."

"I'm alright." Said Barley, with much more control this time. "I just fell off one of the boats. That's all." She added.

The girl nodded, her slightly obnoxious blonde twin-tails bobbing, well, obnoxiously.  
"Well, that's no good. At least come on out of there and let's get you dried off. Do you have somewhere to go?"  
"Not really..." Said Barley quietly.  
"Well, come on!" The girl prodded. "You're not going anywhere back there. Let's at least get you something dry on before you freeze, or get a rash."

Barley hesitated, then sighed. "Alright." She said, sounding rather deflated.

"My name is Liz, by the way." She said happily, trying to drag Barley the rest of the way out as gently as one can be dragged. "What's yours?"

"Barley."

Liz gave a curtsy best she could in the crowd. "Nice to meet you, Barley."

"Nice to meet you too." Said Barley.  
Barley started to walk again, though she didn't know where to go. Liz seemed to pick up on that, and started to nudge her down another street, deeper into the village.

"So, you said you don't have anywhere to go. Do you have any stuff with you, or are you one of those ship-traveling people with no stuff." Liz asked, looking thoughtful in a bit of an aloof way. "I forget what they're called."  
Barley chuckled a bit at this. "A hobo?" She asked.  
Liz shrugged. "That works."  
"Not-" Barley started, then thought about it. "I guess that honestly wouldn't be a bad description at the moment." She said, to nobody in particular.

"You still haven't answered my question though." Liz said in a gently chiding tone. "I need to know if I need to get you something else to change into myself."

Barley was taken aback by this. "No. No, I can get myself something." Said Barley. "Thank you though."  
"Well, 'no, no' right back at you. I insist." Liz answered, giving a pouty face.

Barley didn't know to do about this. They just stood there at a stalemate. Not taking just standing there, Liz grabbed Barley by the wrist and marched her to another bit of market, this one much less crowded. She continued her marched her right up to a small shop and practically pushed her in. It was, of course, a clothing merchant. Barley sighed as she stepped inside.

There was obviously no way of getting out of this, Liz was basically body-blocking the door. Barley sighed again, though she smiled at her antics. She couldn't help but smile.

When it looked like she wasn't going to make a shot for the exit, Liz bounded up beside her. "Pick out what you like. I can pay for it."  
"I can't let you do that." Said Barley, looking over the clothes nonetheless. A change was not a bad idea, all things considered.  
"I can pay for it. I think..." She added. "What's... What's the currency around here?"

Liz looked at Barley confused for a moment. "Uh... Well, depends. Our coins are typically gold or silver. But you can trade in about any precious metal or stone."  
"Alright." Said Barley, looking relieved.  
"Where are you from anyways?" Liz asked, looking Barley over.  
Barley hesitated. "Aldria." She answered at length.

Liz's brow furrowed as she tried to remember where that was. Eventually she just shrugged with a smile. "Geography was never my strong point. Anyways, see something you like?"  
Barley picked out a plain shirt and pants, and Liz looked at it critically. She didn't seem terribly impressed.  
"Really? That's it?" Liz asked with a frown. "That's so... Boring."  
"I need something that's not going to get in my way." Said Barley.  
Liz looked down at her own dress, tapping the edge of her hoop skirt with her staff a bit self-consciously. "Um, yeah. I can get that appeal."  
"I've never been one for flashy stuff anyways." Said Barley. "Though you wouldn't be the first to call me boring."  
"I-I never said you were boring! You seem really neat." Liz said, sounding a bit upset.  
Barley smiled. "Thanks."

Liz bobbed up and down happily. "Ok, well, I'm going to wait outside then. You can handle everything in here?"  
"Yep." Said Barley.  
With a nod, Liz stepped outside, and a few minutes later, Barley joined her again, wearing her new clothes, though she was still wearing her gloves, boots, and backpack. Her old clothes were draped over one arm, not dripping any more, but still rather an uncomfortably wet thing to carry.

Liz looked her over, smiling. "You look good. Pretty much the same, but good. Very, uh... Sublime."

Barley smiled again. The two started to walk again. Nowhere in particular, but away from the water.  
"So," said Barley. "Are your family merchants?"  
Liz shook her head. "Uh... Well, no. I don't think I should tell you. Most people wouldn't appreciate it, I don't think. They honestly don't even like it when I wander around like this."

"Oh." Said Barley, stopping. "I'm not going to get you in any trouble am I?."

Liz waved it off, laughing.  
"Oh, it's no problem, worst I can get is a slap on the wrist. I'm pretty much immune to punishment." She said, puffing herself out proudly. "Besides, I like meeting people."

Barley smiled again, though it was a half a half smile. She didn't know how much she agreed with her companion's logic, and despite their reassurance, though she was still seemed a bit concerned about the situation.

Their walking slowed.  
"I was thinking of heading out of town..." Said Barley.  
"Well, where are you headed? I can point you in the right direction."  
Barley didn't answer again. Just stood there looking uncomfortable.  
"Well... You came from across the sea, right? You're certainly not from around here." Liz mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Probably best to stay away from the borders for now."  
Barley nodded.

"Milady." A voice interrupted, making Liz go rigid.

Barley turned to see, to her shock, the man who had taken the barrel on the ship. He stood straight as a poker, grinding Liz into the ground with a stern look. Barley forced herself to stay calm. He didn't seem to recognize her. How could he? He had never actually seen her.

The man, who wore armor that looked to weigh more then the man himself, glared down at Barley next, them back at Liz. "Mingling with the common folk again?"

That statement told Barley exactly what kind of trouble she had gotten herself into. She looked apologetically at Liz, and slowly began to slip away...

Liz grabbed Barley by the sleeve and pulled her back. "As a matter of fact, I am." She said back challengingly. The man's glare somehow turned fiercer, and Liz wilted.

Barley tried discreetly to wriggle out of her grip.

Frederick shook his head, gently prying Liz away. She was no match for his strength, and went with it, pouting as she did. "Sorry for troubling you, miss." He said to Barley with a nod.

Barley nodded back. "Goodbye then." She said, though it came out so quietly she wondered if Liz even heard.

Barley started to walk away, slowly and evenly. She could hear Frederick talking to Liz in a low, chiding tone behind her.

"Good, you found Liz." said another voice, sounding slightly winded. "We've been combing the market, but there's still no sign of..." He stopped short, eyes locked on Barley.

Barley turned briefly at the conversation, though only caught a glimpse of the symbols of a suddenly familiar cloak, before breaking into a sprint.

There were a series of noises that Barley didn't dare look back to identify. She was certainly being chased again.

She slid around a cart, putting it between her and her pursuers. There was nowhere near the clutter of the market here, and she was quickly being overtaken.

There were plenty of alleyways leading to the back streets. She ducked down one of these, anything was better than the open, and these people didn't seem very keen on small spaces. There was more shouting, and a crash as someone presumably crashed into the carts. She looked up at the roofs again, it was probably her best bet. That had worked pretty well, last time. She scrambled up a drain pipe as quietly as she could, then creep along the slates, low, so nobody could see her from the street.

She watched as the people chasing her ran right past yet again. Barley gave a sigh of relief. Now all she had to do was get out of town without being spotted again. Just to be safe, she stuck to the roof for a little longer, before slipping down into another alleyway. She started to trot forward, feeling pretty good about things, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind.

To be Continued

 _A/N:_

 _So a bit of context to this story._

 _Contrary to my update list, I still write. Quite a lot. I do love a story, and my Fire Emblem stories never stopped growing._

 _Some time ago now, I was telling the story of one of my favorite games of all time to a fellow writer (who just happens to be my girlfriend), and we were struck with an idea. Instead of just telling it, we would take one of her own original characters, and drag her through the plot. Nothing explores a world better then being in it. Told in a roll-play style, a little project was started._

 _Its not very little any more._

 _Great writing? Probably not, but golly gee, its been fun, and something worth sharing._

 _Also, though not mentioned this chapter, to avoid confusion in the future, I named my Avatar "Chris". Default appearance still._

 _We already have lots of backlog, so be prepared for updates._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

"I thought you'd try that again." Said the cloaked man. He didn't get much farther than that; Barley pulled out her staff and expanded it, ramming it into his diaphragm in the process.

He gave a winded choke and staggered backwards. Barley used the moment of weakness to break out of his grip, and bolt for the open street, but he maneuvered in front of her, clogging her only way out.

"Look, we don't want to hurt you." The man wheezed, rubbing the sore spot on his chest. "We just want to ask you some things. Like what you were doing on our boat."  
"I was hitchhiking." Said Barley, backing out of his reach and watching carefully for any sign of that book.

The man eyed her skeptically, it gave him an unnerving look with just the shadows of his eyes peering out from under the hood he had on. "Hitchhiking... From that island?"  
"If I had any other choice, I wouldn't have done it." Said Barley. "I was stuck there."  
"And how did you get there to begin with? Did you come through the gate?"

Barley faltered. Badly. They just stood there for a moment, Barley trying to figure out what to say, painfully aware how bad this was making her look. "Yes." She said quietly, hoping this was the right thing to say. "I'm not trying to cause any trouble." She added.

The man let down his hood, revealing a rather kind looking face and a mess of silver hair. "I believe you. My name is Chris. "Yours?"  
"Barley." She said carefully, still not ready to entirely trust them man  
Chris nodded with a sigh.

"Well, would you mind coming with me? We'll get this all sorted out and you can be on your way." He said, motioning for her to follow him out of the alleyway.  
Barley's face darkened again, her body tensing like a spring. Her eyes darted around the narrow alleyway.

Chris looked back at her, frowning a bit. "Are you coming? The sooner we can clear this up, the sooner be free to go."

"Hey, Everything's going to be fine." He added, picking up on her tension. "You'll just be asked a few questions, and sent on your way. There's no need to be worried."  
Barley wasn't so sure about that, though he seemed absolutely genuine, and it eased her nerves a bit. She followed after him; she would have a better chance of losing him outside the alley anyways, if she really needed to. Chris waited for her to catch up, giving her a reassuring smile, and placing a guiding hand on her shoulder. Barley flinched horribly.

Chris quickly recalled his hand as he felt her whole body tense.  
"Sorry... Um, just follow me?"

Barley didn't say anything. But when he walked ahead, she trailed cautiously behind.  
Chris walked slowly enough that Barley wouldn't fall behind, and likely run off, as he made his way down the town streets. When they made it back to the dock, they found it to be largely cleared out, with the rest of his group nowhere in sight. Chris gave a confused sigh. "Hmm. Guess everyone finished here."

Barley had regained almost all of her nervousness by this time; Chris was watching intently out of the corner of his eye, and she was becoming less and less sold on his friendly act.  
"Well... This is awkward. I could probably just let you go..." Chris muttered. "I'd certainly get an earful from Frederick. Might as well take you along. Everyone probably went out the way we came in. Which is..." Chris spun around, trying to orient himself. "This way."

And they set off again. Chris seemed a little more intent on remembering the path this time. Barley watched the streets carefully, looking for somewhere to slip away. She grit her teeth as she recognized another member of his group down the street.

"Hey, Stahl!" Shouted Chris, picking up speed.  
The man looked up from where he was idling, his horse wandering around at the end of it's lead beside him.  
"Oh, you got them." he said, when he saw Barley trailing behind.

There was a low rumble that shook the area. A thin purple line drew itself in the sky. With a thunderous clap, the line expanded into a swirling hole.  
Stahl snapping to his feet at the noise, but was nearly pulled right back onto the as his horse reared and tried to bolt. Chris ran up beside him, reaching for the short sword at his side.  
"The Risen. Here? Now?" The green-haired cavalier asked incredulously, doing the best he could to mount the startled creature.

"Quick, let's get the others. You," Chris snapped back around to Barley. "You get somewhere safe."  
But she was already gone.  
"That works too." Stahl said with a chuckle. Chris couldn't help but grin too, before joining Stahl on his horse and galloping off.

• • •

Barley ran up another side street, dodging panicked merchants as the scrambled around. She had no idea what was happening, but one thing was for sure, reality didn't seem to apply anymore. The black hole in the sky was growing larger, twisting the light around it to the point that the whole sky was an incoherent mess. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the whole thing, collapsed on itself, turning into some lens-like shape, rippling like water.

Dark jets of smoke began to spew from the void, raining down on the city. Barley ducked behind a cart as another horseman, this one red, road through the street, directing straggling people to safety.  
Wherever she was, Barley concluded that she was now in crazy town.

She ducked around another corner, and nearly ran smack into a tall, dark, humanoid... Thing. The creature noticed her, its whole body contorting to face her with all the fluidity of rusted gears, eyes glowing red, It's whole body seething the same thick smoke as the lens in the sky. Barley started to back away from it, it lunged at after her with a speed that its previous motions betrayed. Barley slid away, fumbling with the blaster holster on her boot. She did not want to get close enough to use her staff. Finally, she got the thing free, firing two charges into chest as it rounded to charge again.

The blasts punched straight through the creature, and it fumbled back. It looked down, seemingly surprised at the two large holes occupying the space that used to be its chest, then gave a roar, as its whole body lost its consistency, dissolving into smoke.

Barley was thoroughly unnerved now. She got away from the place as fast as she could.  
The town was fast deserting due to the evacuation efforts. People seemed to be moving towards the center of town. An explosion shook the ground; Barley looking to see smoke rising from near the docks.

She grit her teeth; she wanted to help. There was a tramping of boots again, and Barley ducked away as three more of Chris's company ran by.  
She couldn't stay. Even if she did help, these people would just pick her up the second it was over. But at least she would do as much damage as she could on the way out.

Barley made her way towards the edge of town, dispatching any of the creatures she saw with shots from her weapon. She saw nobody else, forces seemed to be concentrated at the center of the city, near the civilians.

Before long, she could make out the city gate in front of her. She doubled her speed, then skidded and gasped, when she saw what was on the other side.

Four huge creatures stood around the outside wall, ripping chunks out of it, and hurling them into the city beyond. That would explain the explosions she had been hearing.  
Barley hesitated, teeth grit. This made her current objective of escaping significantly more difficult. They seemed intent on what they were doing, maybe she could slip by. Barley carefully approached the gate, or what was left of it, using the little line of shrubs planted against it to stay hidden. She watched the giant closest to her for a moment, and when the timing seemed right, made a dash for the fields outside of town.

It didn't seem to notice her at first, just proceeded to pry another chunk out of the wall, then it stopped, and turned, cocking its head at her almost curiously, then threw the rock.

Barley yelped as the stone crashed down only feet away from her, the shockwave sending her sprawling.  
She quickly scrambled back to her feet as the monster tore up another bolder, presumably to throw at her. Barley looked frantically for somewhere to run, but short of right past the thing into the city again, there was nowhere to go.

The next rock came flying over her head, and Barley hit the dirt as it smashed into the ground behind her. At least it had terrible aim.

It seemed to know this, because it laid off the rocks, and came charging at her, swinging the long chains dangling from the shackles on its wrists. Barley got to her knees and leveled her blaster at it, twisting it's barrel, to switching to the heavier ammunition. She braced herself, and fired, sending a laser tipped bullet slamming into his chest.

The creature stumbled at the impact, screeching definitely. As far as Barley could tell, it had a similar effect on the monster's body as it did on the smaller ones. Only this one didn't die. It swung it's chain-whip at Barley, all venom and hatred burning in it's eyes. Barley barely managed to roll out of the way as it struck; dirt and gravel went flying everywhere, showering down on her head.

She covered her head and sprinted back into the town; there was no way she was going to outrun the thing in an open field. It lumbered after her, hatred burning in its every motion.

The thing crashed after her into the town, blowing past ruined structures until the buildings became thick and durable enough to prevent it from charging right through them Barley skidded to a halt as soon as it slowed down. She couldn't lead it into the center of town, not in good conscience.

She swerved around it, landing a few more shots, charged this time, into it's mask. It didn't like that at all. It swung it's whip again, slamming it down the length of the street. Barley narrowly avoided the blow, falling on her face again. Before ducking down another side street.

The creature quickly descended on the alleyway, attempting to claw its way in, then Barley heard the telltale sound of arrows flying. The creature flinched a bit as each arrow struck it, but didn't back out until the fifth.

It backed out of the tight space, snarling at it's new assailants. There were a few shouts, then the sound of hooves leading the thing off. Barley stayed where she was for a few moments more, giving both the giants and the guards adequate time to clear off, when she thought the coast was clear, she carefully edge back out into the street again.

Just outside the alley was rather curious looking man. Other then his unnatural hair color, a chalky blue, he was dressed like a noble. Given the bow in his hand, Barley assumed he was the archer she had heard. He looked like someone who shot a bow for sport rather than hunting or anything of the like. He could have very well been the town mayor.

"Well, hello, miss. Pleasure to meet you, though I would prefer better circumstances. You'd do well to possibly relocate yourself, hm?"  
Barley didn't have to be told twice. She was down the next street like a shot.  
The man blinked a few times. "Well... Ok."

Barley tore up the next street. She was more than aware that she had completely lost control of the situation. She scanned the area. The shambled streets were completely deserted, hopefully everyone had made it somewhere safe. There were fewer monsters about and she could only make out three of the giants. Hopefully that meant someone was taking care of them. She started to trot again, she had no idea what to do.

There was a crash and a few pieces of roofing slid down into the street. Barley whipped around to see the face of her friend the giant glowering down at her. He had obviously not forgiven her.  
The monster hammered its fists into the ground, nearly uprooting all the pavement with the shockwaves. Barley struggled to keep her balance on the shifting ground, while still trying to get monster bounded over the rubble, its sheer size giving it a speed Barley couldn't match, and it was getting uncomfortably close to her. And there weren't a lot of places she could run too. She ducked down another narrow street. The beast howled in frustration, and rammed it's arm down the alleyway after her, slamming her into a wall.

Barley gasped at the impact, she was lucky that she hadn't crack a rib. The creature was groped along the wall for her, knocking shingles off the roof and smashing plaster off the wall. Barley dropped her gun on the ground and expanded her staff again, this time snapping out the blades.

Barley ducked as the hand swung just above her head, then rammed the blade into the it's palm. The ionized blade penetrated deep, and the monster howled. It pulled it's hand back so fast, Barley lost her grip on the weapon.

The behemoth flailed around, the weapon still embedded in its hand. It made a furious roar, and jammed it's arm back down the alley. The protruding weapon didn't quite fit, and snapped off loudly. The creature rammed its fist around in the tight space, not so much trying to grab her now as just trying to crush her. The flailing was shaking the buildings apart, sending chunks of debris raining on top of her.

She pressed herself against the wall, frantically looking for some way to get out. When the opportunity presented itself, she tried to dash out, only to be smashed into by a lucky chunk of roofing.

Barley gave a cry of pain, falling to the ground just in time to dodge a swipe from the beast's hands. At the yell, the creature pulled back and glared down the alleyway to get a look at the damage. Barley lay still. After a moment, it backed off, and Barley gave an uneven sigh of relief. Then yelled out again in surprise as the building next to her was sheared in half.

The monster gripped the chains of its shackles with its good hand, and whipped the building again, turning the already crumbling architecture into a mess of rubble. Barley had to move, now, or she would be buried alive.

She rolled out of the way as best she could, clambering for the other end of the alleyway. There was a blast, and the beast lurched forwards, nearly falling flat on it's face.

"Arcthunder!" Someone shouted, and another blast shook the area. This time the beast did fall, all the way down on it's face. It thrashed under a hail of javelins and arrows, then staggered back to it's feet. With a ragged roar, as it rounded on it's new attackers. Barley heard a horse scream.

She kicked the debris of of her, and dug frantically through the wreckage for her gun. She found it and raised it at the creature's back, switched ammunition again to her precious tipped bullets, and fired.

The shot hit the monster in the back of the head. It wobbled, then fell, liquidating into a mire of deep purple miasma. As the haze in the air cleared, Barley could just make out Chris gawking at her from the opposite roof.

Barley fumbled her blaster into her boot holster, and pulled her pants leg down over it, as the cloaked man rushed toward her through the smoke. She hoped he didn't notice.  
"Are you alright?" Said Chris as he got closer, then stopped, looking down at her other leg. Barley looked too, and grimaced. The fabric was torn and bloodied, and an unpleasant looking gash could just be seen under the shreds. She didn't have long before her adrenaline rush would subside, and then she would really be feeling that.

"I'm fine," she said, taking a step forward and picking up her staff, doing the best she could to conceal the one still intact blade as she retracted it back into the rod.  
"Well, you're coming with us now. At least to get patched up. Can you walk on your own?" Chris said with a sigh, placing his hand on Barley's shoulder.

Barley tensed again, causing the first flares of pain to shoot up her leg.  
"Yes." She said, planting her staff into the ground, and leaning on it.  
"Good. Virion?" Chris said, turning back to the archer, who was poking through rubble. "Take Barley down to the trauma center, get someone to fix her up, I'll see what I can do for Stahl here, and then join you."

Barley sized up the archer as he stepped elegantly up to her, smiling, and offered his hand.  
"My lady."  
Barley hesitated, and when the man saw her discomfort, he withdrew his hand, though he did look a tad disappointed.  
"Very well, little miss. This way, please." He said, swinging his bow over his shoulder before walking off down the shattered road.

• • •

The archer was in no hurry, and strode slowly beside her as they made their way back through the devastated wasn't much Barley could do in her current state but follow along and sweat it out until the made it back to the market district.

Several of the stalls had been converted into a small combat hospital, where people, clearly medics by their dress, hurried in a frenzy between crowds of people. Virion gave a sharp whistle for someone's attention, and was almost immediately answered by the presence of a short blonde girl with a staff. Liz blinked a few times at Barley, before gasping loudly.  
"Barley! Are you hurt!?"

Barley wasn't able to say much of anything before she was hustled into one of the tents. Liz all but pushed her onto a stool, and started pulling away shreds of destroyed fabric, trying to get a good look at the extent of the damage. She winced as she saw the nasty bruise creeping down most of Barley's lower leg, and the gash where the roofing had penetrated the skin

Liz opened up her little bag of supplies and went to clean the wound. "Uh, this might hurt a bit." She muttered as she put some kind of disinfectant on a cloth.  
Barley eyed the bottle.  
"Wait." She said, shifting so Liz couldn't get at her.  
"Stop it," said Liz with surprising firmness. "That needs to be dealt with."

Barley nodded, and took off her pack, producing a bottle of her own disinfectant, and a twist of bandages.  
Liz sighed.  
"Ok, we'll use your stuff. Give that here and let me patch you up."

Liz repeated the same motion she had before, then ran the wet cloth over the gash to make sure it was clean. Once she was satisfied, she slowly wrapped the bandage around the injury. Barley winced a bit as she pulled it tight.

Barley pushed herself off the stool  
"Thanks."

"Hey, sit back down. I'm not done yet." Liz said, gently trying to get Barley to sit back down.  
Barley complied, smiling a bit at Liz's general persona.  
Once Barley was secure on her stool again, Liz reached for her staff.  
"This is the last thing. Promise." she said, bracing it against the ground.

"What are you doing?" Said Barley.  
"I'm going to use my staff to heal you up." She said cheerily, though her face slowly turned to confusion when Barley's expression became concerned.. "Um... Obviously? Haven't you even had a staff used on you?"  
"No," said Barley. "How does that even work?"  
Liz looked perplexed. "How have you never... I don't even... Have you ever been hurt before?" She eventually settled on asking, avoiding Barley's question entirely.

"Plenty of times." Said Barley, going from mildly uncomfortable, to suspicious, at the avoidance of the question.  
Liz looked downright befuddled. It took a minute to collect herself before she spoke again. "Um, well, yeah. It's sort of a natural energy conduit. Like a tome, but it just focuses the energy differently. I'm not an expert on the science behind it, I'm just trained in using them..."

"I think I'd be more comfortable if you didn't do that." Said Barley.  
"I dunno..." Liz mumbled, wringing her hands around her staff nervously. "That doesn't sound like a good idea."  
"I've healed up normally plenty of times." Said Barley, standing up again. "Form stuff a lot worse than this."  
Liz frowned. "I guess a patient has a right to deny treatment..."  
"Really, I'll be fine." said Barley reassuring "Thank you for your help."

She got up to her feet, testing out how much pressure her leg could take. It was tender to walk on, but getting around wouldn't be hard, especially with her staff.

Barley stood there for an awkward moment, not wanting to leave Liz worrying, but pointedly aware of how much she needed to get out of here. Liz gave her a reassuring, if still worried smile.  
"See you around then…"

Barley nodded, and pushed through the tent flap right into someone. A very large someone.  
"In a hurry, I see."

It was the armored man who had come for Liz in the market. He did not look happy. Behind him, Barley could see two more men standing to attention.  
Barley took a step back, gritting her teeth.  
Liz looked quite upset herself, She hovered up to Barley's side, doing the best she could to make it clear she was not like the situation. As nice as the gesture was though, Barley seriously doubted how much good it would do right about now.

"Young lady, by order of the Ylissen crown prince, you are charged with unlawful passage and suspect of espionage, and will be detained as necessary for further questioning." The man said in a perfectly rehearsed tone as he motioned the two men behind him forward. One of them was carrying a pair of shackles. Barley felt her stomach turn over.

"Frederick! Simmer down a bit, kay?" said Liz with a force that caused Barley to jump. "She's not going anywhere in that shape anyways."

The two men were quite deterred by this, and even Frederick seemed to draw back.  
"My lady, she is dangerous," Frederick said.  
Liz grabbed Barley's arm defiantly.

Frederic glared back at the two men still lingering behind him. One shrugged, and neither seemed inclined to follow through on their orders.

"What do you even think I could do against you?" asked Barley, speaking up for the first time.  
Frederick hit her with a scorching glare.  
"You will be able to make your arguments to the prince when he meets with you."

Both of the knight's men, and quite a few other people in the area by now, were staring at him, not moving at all. It was obvious that his hold on the situation was fast slipping, and he knew it.  
"Just get her to the carts." He said, waving his hand.

"I have other things to attend to."  
The guards started to move Barley away. Liz trailing behind, looking a bit worried.  
"Liz!" Called Frederick from over his shoulder. Liz froze.  
"Report to your brother."

Liz frowned, walking off with her head hung.

* * *

Notes:

ok, funny thing here. This chapter was originally penned a long time ago, before Fire Emblem: Fates even had its eastern release. Since I thought, from the early release trailers, that the Faceless were pretty cool looking. Given their general monstrous forms (though they turned out to be a lot smaller in game), I had the idea to place them alongside the Risen as a more brutish member of Grima's legion. In hindsight, they are sort of out of place, but I like having them around.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Barley was marched to a line of carts near the center of the market. The two men took up positions on either side of her, and they waited.

It didn't take long for the carts to be loaded; what seemed to take longer was for the whole group to  
gather there; it was a decently large band it seemed.  
"Alright Shepherds, let's move out." Shouted someone.  
Barley looked to see the man who had been leading the island expedition. Chris was with him, as well as Frederick. Liz was also there, sticking to him like a bit of chewing gum.

"You doing ok? Sounds like you got hurt." Someone said, making Barley jump a bit. The green knight she had bumped into with Chris was leaning up against the side of the cart. His helmet was off, and Barley was a little shocked to see that his hair was just as green as his armor. Either everybody in this place really liked dye, or there were some really funky genetics around here.

Once Barley made it past his hair, she noticed he had his arm in a wrap, as well as a bandage around the forehead.

"I'm fine." She said quietly.  
"Well, that's good. You had me a bit worried when we lost you after those things started attacking.  
Names Stahl by the way. Nice to meet you."

Barley hesitated.  
"My name is Barley." She said, finally. "...It's nice to meet you too."  
Stahl smiled, holding out his good hand. Barley extended her hand as well, but there was a loud tramping of boots and she swung round to face it. Frederick was leading the little group toward her. Staul snapped to attention as he noticed them approaching.

"That's her?" Said the leader, Barley supposed he was the prince.  
"Yes sir." Said Frederick.  
Chrom looked her over and sighed.  
"Frederick, we don't have time for this."  
"Sire, I know appearances. But the circumstances would say otherwise." Said Frederick.  
Chrom gave an even louder sigh. "Ok then. What is it this time?"  
Frederick's face was a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, if only for a near imperceivable second.  
He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Chris.  
"Sire, this is Barley. She, uh... Was the stowaway on our ship."

Chrom gave a surprised look, shifting his gaze down at her.  
"Is this true?"  
Barley surveyed the group cautiously, eyes coming to rest on Chris. She clenched her teeth and  
nodded slowly.

"Mind telling me what you were doing on my boat, young lady?"  
"I." Started Barley carefully. "I had no other way to get off the island."  
Chrom nodded again. "There, issue solved. Why is she still here? Let the poor girl go, Frederick. She looks like she's had a bad day."

Frederick looked completely aghast. Barley was shocked. Chris seemed equally shocked, and was  
observing the situation with great interest.  
"Your majesty, please. She is obviously a foreigner, and had no business being on that island in the first place. Her appearance here, at this particular time, is all too convenient."  
Chrom seemed unphased.

"I implore you, this doesn't only concern your safety, but the whole realm's. At least have her brought to the capitol, for a proper questioning. " Said Frederick, grasping for straws.  
Chrom looked thoughtful for a moment, if the most mild bit annoyed, then nodded.  
"I suppose... I highly doubt anything is wrong here, but you do have a point."  
"Think you could manage the trip?" Chris asked, looking down at Barley. "I know it's probably an  
inconvenience to you, but it would put everyone's mind at ease..."

"Please?" he asked again, trying to look sympathetic, though it looked more conflicted than anything. He was clearly trying to stay in everyone's good graces, which was either the sign of a manipulator, or naivety.

Barley surveyed the group again, sizing their intentions. Ultimately though, it didn't matter, their asking was just a formality; there was no way that they would take no as an answer. It was either go willingly, at least with the appearance of being willing, or go chained. The incident at the tent made that all too clear.

Barley's eyes fell on Liz. At least she had one person she felt like she could trust. She just nodded in  
the end.

"Thank you." said Chrom, " Sumia! Could you get Barley here ready to go? And Stahl! Pass word  
around that we're leaving."  
The knight nodded and walked off.

Liz came up and sat next to Barley as the group of three walked way into the bustle. She didn't say  
anything, just sort of sat there. Before too long, another woman walked up to them, she was tall, wore  
pink under her armor, and a feather in her hair. She gave a bright, cheery smile as she approached that would give Liz a run for her money. Barley assumed she was Sumia

Barley nodded back at her, doing her best to seem at least somewhat civil, though she wasn't sure how successful she was, considering she was only a few notches below panic at the moment. The woman's smile weakened, became tainted with something almost like pity. It wasn't exactly reassuring.

"This is Sumia." Piped up Liz. "She's going to be driving this cart. Say hi!"  
Sumia just waved shyly. Barley gave her best shot at a wave back.  
After a moment of nothing, probably so she didn't seem rude by walking away too soon, Sumia made her way to the front of the cart, where Barley heard her quietly talking to the horses.

Liz pulled a face. That was obviously not how she wanted that meeting to go. She bounded back  
quickly enough though.  
"So, I'm going to be riding back here with you!" she said happily, making a casual scoot in Barley's  
direction. "To keep you company. Though… I think Frederick just wants me to keep an eye one you."

She leaned back again, smiling widely. Barley just nodded.

• • •

Before too much longer, the carts started to move. The people of the village shouted and waved as the  
Shepherds rolled out of the town, onto the open road and the fields beyond.  
Liz sat at the edge of the cart, letting her legs dangle and wave over the side as the they bumped on  
every little stone. She looked at Barley, who was staring off in the opposite direction. Or would it be the same direction, Liz wondered, since they were both looking the same way. She opened her mouth to get Barley's attention, but no sound came out, so eventually she just closing it with a frown. Chris, who had been assigned to the cart last minute, looked up from over the brim of his book, chuckling a bit to himself.

Barley didn't seem to notice any of this at all.

Liz made another attempt to talk, but but this also died under Barley's crippling silence. Liz slumped  
down, defeated, and looking reasonably unhappy.  
There was a significant bump, and Liz's staff slid off the crate it had been resting on. Liz jumped for it, but she wasn't as fast as Barley, who caught it just before it hit her in the head.

"Uh... Heh, thanks." Liz said in a tiny voice.  
"No problem." Said Barley, holding the rod out for Liz to take.  
"So... How's your leg doing?" Liz asked grasping at the feeble string of conversation  
"Fine." Said Barley.  
Liz frowned again. 'That's not much of an answer. "Stinging? Soreness? Anything at all? It's my job to make sure people feel better, after all. And I look out for the people I treat."  
"It's bruised." Said Barley with a shrug. "And some of the plaster that fell on me broke the skin, you  
saw it. But it could be a lot worse."  
"It could be better too." Liz muttered, but didn't press it.

After a few moments of silence, it was pretty clear Barley was done talking, so she turned to Chris.  
"Hey Chris, how long until we make it back?" She asked. He shrugged, looking up at the sky.  
"Another hour still, probably"  
Liz glanced again at Barley, who was back to rigidly staring at the road.  
She watched her somewhere between concern and curiosity, before giving her a prod with her staff.  
"Hey, Is something bothering you?"  
Barley caught the end of the stick.  
"I'm fine."  
Then she realized exactly what she had in her hand, and pushed it gently away.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with this thing." said Liz, playfully prodding at her again. "It's not like it's dangerous."  
"I still would rather not be poked with it." said Barley.  
Liz huffed, but stopped poking, and propped the thing away again, this time more securely.

"If you're so concerned about it, why don't you do some research on them." said Chris from behind his book.  
"Once I'm in a position to actually do that." Answered Barley.  
Chris seemed to be anticipating that response; he set his reading down and dug into the little stack of  
books he was toting around with him, after a moment producing a little leaflet-type document.

He held it out to Barley, then seemed to think twice and swiveled it over to Liz.  
"Actually, you may be the better one to go over this." he said, "Neither of us would probably be able to make much of it without any background."  
Liz took the book and opened it somewhere around the middle.  
"Ohhhh, that's how it works." she said after a few minutes of skimming over the pages.  
"How can you not know this stuff already?" asked Barley, glancing over at her.  
"I already told you," said Liz, puffing herself up defensively, "I was never taught how they worked, just how to use them."  
"But you have to have been told something in basic training."  
"Not really…"

Barley looked rather dissatisfied with this answer.

"Look, Using staves is pretty complicated. I'm pretty good at it, but there is a lot that goes into learning the hows and whys of them. And between all my time learning to be a good princess, and practicing all my courtly manners, and being out helping Chrom around Ylisse, there hasn't been a lot of time to figure these things out."

Barley didn't answer anything to this spiel, she had given a sharp start at the word 'princess' and now  
seemed very occupied with other things. She slowly turned round and started to stare at the road  
again.

Chris chuckled a bit at the sudden intensifying of her rigidity, and the likely cause behind it. When she just stayed like that, he made a stealthy shuffle closer, and bopped Barley over the head with a light tome.

Barley made a rather spectacular jump, then turned round to look at Chris, one thought written across  
her face.  
Why.  
Chris laughed outright at this. "Sorry, sorry," he said, holding his hands up " You just went all stiff as a board again."  
Barley just sighed.

Liz was humming, hawing and generally making all sorts of odd noises over her book; whether it was  
because she was finding her reading interesting, or just that she wanted people to notice her again was anyone's guess.

Barley decided to throw her a bone. She was trying so hard to have a conversation.  
"So how do the staffs work?" Barley asked.

Liz bounced up so suddenly that she nearly fell off the cart, after a panicked squeak, and steadying  
herself, she grabbed her staff, and braced it in front of her. With the cart still bouncing as it was, she  
settled for staying seated.  
"Well it's basically all magic-y… here." She said, motioning up to the the crystal gem adorning the  
headpiece of her staff. "From there, it creates a bubble of energy by pulling the ether out of the air and looping the power through the caster's body, which can then be directed at pretty much any living thing other then the user. I could then pop the bubble and…" Liz slowed down as the look on Barley's face showed pretty, clearly that she was not getting it. "Um… it gives the body a lot of energy, and it uses it to accelerate natural healing a lot."

Chris gave a low whistle.  
"Wow, Liz. That actually sounded pretty smart."  
Liz puffed out her cheeks in annoyance, though they both started laughing a moment later.  
Shortly, the tactician turned Barley's way.  
"Do you have anything like staffs where you come from?"  
"Kind of." said Barley "Or at least something equivalent."  
"Then why are you so against having the staff used on you?" he asked, his brow furrowing.  
"Because it the thing we have causes cancer." said Barley flatly.

Chris and Liz glanced at each other.  
"What's cancer?" asked Liz.

"It's when your cells go rogue, turn against your body and start attacking it…" Then she trailed of, as  
she realized from the blank looks on both of their faces that she was not being understood at all. "It's  
bad.." she trailed off weakly.

"Well," said Chris, still looking very confused. "The medical field has never been my strong suit. Or, at least not that I can remember. I would need to do some more research, and I'm sure the royal library has something on the matter. Though I can't say I've ever heard of staffs causing anything like that."  
Liz just looked really confused still. Eventually, she settled back on reading the rest of the pamphlet.

Everything fell into a slightly more comfortable silence after that. At least Liz seemed rather placated. Barely, on the other hand, was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Every bridge of silence was a new space to contemplate all the ways this situation could go horribly wrong.

And there were many, many ways this could go wrong.

Eventually, Liz got up yet again, more carefully this time, to peek around the edge of of the cart. "Hey, hey! You can see the very edges of the city! We're almost there!" She said excitedly, waving Barely over. Carefully, she got up and looked over herself. Sure enough, the very tips of castle spires could be seen poking out over the hills.

"You know, if you girls want a better view, you could just come up here." Sumia said, looking back at them from driver's seat. Liz shooed Barley in that direction, who slowly began to make her way up. With a bit of careful footing, she hurdled the front wall over into the driver's area. Sumia looked over and gave her a bright smile before refocusing her attention on the bumpy dirt road.

Barley gazed along the road in front of them towards the capitol blued out in the distance, then at the  
fields around them. This really was a beautiful place when one had the presence of mind to notice.  
Green hills rolled around them, sparsely wooded, framed perfectly by the mountain range on the  
horizon. It was a beautiful day out too. With just the slightest bit of chill in the air despite the bright  
sun.

The two rode in silence for a while, with only the clopping of the horses hooves and a few snatches of  
conversation from the other carts to break the quiet. Sumia looked like the happiest lady in the world.  
Sparing Barley another glance though, she realized that the little person next to her was not sharing her mood.

"It's ah, a beautiful day outside isn't it." Sumia said,  
Barley just nodded in response.  
"The castle is just up ahead. Have you eh, have you ever been to Ylisstol before?"  
"No.." Barley mumbled.  
"Uh," said Sumia, looking over at her again. "Hello? Barley wasn't it? Did you hear me?"  
"No," said Barley a little louder.  
Sumia shrugged.  
"Well, it's a nice place, I think you'll like it here.. If you intend to stay very long."  
That's not what I was planning." said Barley. "I have places I need to get to."  
"That's a shame, but I understand. I think you would like it here. Where are you headed to anyways?  
There's not a whole lot of places to be right now."

Barley realized that she had probably said the wrong thing. She shifted uncomfortably.  
"I was going to try to head to…" said Barley, every word sounding painful to produce.  
"Do you have family somewhere? You look kind of like you belong up in Ferox. It's not often we get  
visitors from there."  
"No, no I'm not from Ferox."  
"Well contrary to what Frederick says, you're clearly not Plasian, so, eh.." Sumia trailed off as As she realized the conversation had wandered places she didn't want it to.  
"Just, never mind, it's okay, I understand if you don't want to talk about it."  
Barley looked up ah her somewhat supried.  
"Thanks…" she said, not knowing what else to say.

That made Sumia smile.  
With a bit of the tension eased out of Barley's system, the rest of the ride went a lot more smoothly.  
They didn't talk much more, just sat quietly, listening to the sounds of the fields, A situation they  
seemed to find mutually agreeable.

• • •

Eventually they reached the front gates of the city; they were much larger than they had seem on the  
approach. Everything about them seemed heavy, from the iron bolts, to the gate suspended above it by thick chains. It was easy to see place has seen its fair share of war.

A group of guards stood at the gate, directing the traffic that was flowing in and out. As the Shepherds approached, they stood to attention, bowing to Chrom before clearing them a path through the traffic. Sumia nodded at them sheepishly as she snuck in between all the other carts. Once the whole caravan was cleared through the gate, they picked up their pace again, making for the side roads.

The place reminded Barley a bit of the port town, only on a larger scale. The architecture was almost  
identical, though Things were largely made of stone here, rather than wood or thatch, Everything looked nicer, less rustic, if a bit more up tight; which honestly wasn't too unexpected from what was apparently the royal capitol. The whole place was built at a slant towards the mountains it rested against, buildings getting taller and taller as they stretched inwards, reaching their peak at the castle.

The train of carts continued to maneuver through the back streets for a while, before finally coming to stop in front of a long low building built right up against the wall of the city. The cart gave a lurch, and Barley looked back to see that Chris had disembarked, quickly followed by Liz. Sumiawordlessly  
hopped off as well, Unhitched the horses and lead them away. leaving Barley alone.

The whole of the group Had began to to unload the supplies from the carts. Barley slipped off the cart silently and looked down the tight, empty street across from her, Nobody seemed to be paying any attention. She took a step forward, only to be grabbed by Liz.

"And here we are!" said She exuberantly, turning Barley around to face the low building again. "It's not much, but this place is where a lot of the shepherds call home. It used to be an old inn once," she  
continued, dragging Barley forward by the arm. "But we've patched it up, and it's our base of operations now."

Staul held the door open for the two as Liz continued to drag Barley all the way inside. They ducked  
though quickly as not to be in the way of the near constant flow of people using building's tiney door.  
Liz seemed fully prepared to give Barley the grand tour of the building, but she was interrupted by  
Somebody calling her from another room, Liz took off again, and Barley was again unattended.

She glanced again at the door; there was no way she would be able to slip back outside that way, not  
without everyone in the place noticing. Maybe there was another exit. She cautiously she began to inch towards one of the hallways leading off the room she was in. Then froze, as she caught a subtle  
movement out of the corner of her eye.

Nearly mistakable for one of the suits of armor adorning the back wall was a rather large man squinting at her. Barley shied away, thoroughly unnerved at not having noticed him before now. The man blinked at her, seemingly surprised at her reaction, he took a few clanking strides. In her direction.

"H-hello there, little miss," he said in rather an uncertain voice, then paused as he noticed Barley  
glancing around uneasily.  
"I don't mean to bother you, but you don't exactly look like you're fitting in very well… I ah, I don't  
suppose you've eh, joined the shepherds? I know Chrom's always looking for new recruits."

"New Recruit?"  
There was a loud thud from the doorway as a huge pile of boxes were dropped to the floor. A bare  
chested man with muscles to rival the size of The other fellow's armor stepped forward and leaned down to look at Barley.  
"Well I'll be, it is a newcomer. Howdy there little girl, welcome to the shepherds."  
Barley jumped back, slamming right into the iron wall that was Kellum. She was speechless.

The man laughed explosively.  
"Ahh, speechless in the presence of the Vake. Perfectly natural."  
The man, apparently 'Vake" gave a demonstration of his rippling muscles, making the steel  
collar peice he wore as armor shift under the strength of his pectorals.  
"Vake, you're scaring the new girl…"  
It was Vake's turn to leap backwards.  
"Kellum? You're here?"  
"I was the one who said there was a newcomer here…"

Liz poaked her head around the doorway of the other room. She took one look at the situation, and  
marched and marched forward clapping her hands to get everyone's attention.  
"Come on guys, come on, leave the poor girl alone. You're getting her all worked up more than she  
already is."  
Kellum nodded, slinking off into the corners of the room again, Vake just nodded, and went back to the pile of boxes he had left in the doorway, relieving the roadblock they were causing, and took them off to the store room. Liz chuckled a bit.  
"Eh, sorry about that. We have some rather… zealous people here. They're all really nice though."  
Barley nodded a little shakily.

Liz took Barley's hand again, gave it a reassuring pat to make sure that she wasn't going to freeze up  
on her again, then escorted her to a quieter area of the barracks.  
"Sorry you got mixed up in all this… You weren't even supposed to be here. Hopefully it will all get  
sorted out soon enough, and you can be on your way."  
"Hopefully." said Barley, though she didn't sound it.  
"It there, eh, is there anything I can get you in the meantime?"  
Barley shook her head.

Liz looked general dissatisfied with that, but didn't push the matter, as she was learning quickly not to do.

She hovered around the room, obviously feeling like she needed to help the others, but not wanting  
to leave Barley alone to be ambushed by more stray Shepherds. She didn't have to wait too terribly long though before Chrom came in.

Liz lit up like a firework, before quickly deflating as he was followed in by Frederick.  
Chrom looked down at Barley somewhat awkwardly, not quite sure how to approach the subject.  
"Um, so, Baily-"  
"It's, Barley." Liz Corrected.  
"Barley. Uh, I suppose we should go now. Look, I'm really sorry for this, but it is, strictly speaking, in our best interest to go through with this. We need to head to the castle anyways. Frederick advises that we take you with us."  
Barley didn't have time to respond one way or the other, as she felt one of Frederick's massive hands  
close over her shoulder.

Liz patted her other shoulder gently.  
"Don't worry, really. I promise you it'll be all over before you know it, and everything's going to be fine.

And with that, Barley was marched away.

• • •

It was a decent walk to the castle from where the barracks; Frederick and the prince walked on at a  
brisk pace. Barley looking rather pathetic sandwiched between them; more than one causal passer by  
stopped to stare after them curiously, a fact that seemed to make Chrom rather awkward. He seemed  
relieved when they finally reached the castle.

They guards at the door ushered then them inside instantly, and after a few words from Chrom, one of them ran off, apparently to let whoever was in charge know they were here. Then they were off again, navigating the bright, maze-like passages of the castle. The group continued to wind through the castle until they reached an ornate double door flanked by what looked to be elite guards.

Barley stood rigidly as the men bowed to Chrom and gave them passage. Frederick steered her into  
the room, and the doors were sealed behind them.

The hall on the other side was curiously bare, though they may simply have been its size compared to  
the number of people in it, marks here and there, suggested that the whole chamber had gone under  
renovation recently. A throne sat at the far end of the room, resting beneath a huge symbol, what Barley assumed to be the crest of nation. The throne itself was curiously empty.

Frederick stayed parked behind her. Probably making sure she wouldn't bolt, though here he thought  
she'd go though, Barley had no. Chrom walked easily forward toward the throne.

"Sister! Are you here?" He called out into the room, the words echoing a bit more than seemed  
reasonable.  
"No need to shout Chrom. I'm right here." A gentle voice answered.  
Everyone turned to face the newcomer. She was tall and elegant, and obviously older than both her  
other siblings. She had the same white blonde hair as Liz; which made Barley wonder how Chrom's had wound up blue...

Chrom and Frederick bowed respectfully. Barley gave a short, sharp little sallute.

"Please, keep the formalities to the courts." the woman said with a light bubbly chuckle. Yup,  
definitely related to Liz.  
"Though this doesn't look like a social visit... And you've brought another new friend."

Chrom looked like he would answer, but Frederick spoke first.  
"Lady Exalt, we apprehended this foreigner at the southern shore. I have reasons to believe she is a  
spy of some variety." Frederick answered with a practiced smoothness. One would almost be tempted to believe that claim based solely on how seriously it was delivered.

The Exalt nodded, and turned to face Barley.  
"And what do you have to say about that, young one?"  
"I am not a spy, and have no intention of causing anyone any trouble. I was stranded."  
The Exalt lowered herself to Barley's level, staring at her intently. Barley wanted to recoil at the  
proximity, but forced herself to hold her ground. Curiously, at this distance, she could make out what  
looked like a tattoo on the woman's forehead, only a few shades darker then her skin tone, it looked like the crest that she had seen decorating the pennants all over the castle.

Eventually the woman stood back up, clapping her hands once and smiling. "Well, there you have it.  
She is no spy."

Barley was stunned.

Frederick seemed equally stunned, as well as a mix of flustered and angry. Chrom just shrugged.  
"Well that's cleared up." he said.

Barley didn't know what to think. This whole thing almost felt like a trap, but she didn't see how it could be one. One thing was for sure though, she felt like a puddle of jelly.

The queen turned to Chrom.  
"What are the results of your round of the kingdom?"

"Less good then I would have hoped. The Risen have been popping up everywhere, and most towns are woefully unprepared to fight them off. On top of that, the bandits are taking advantage of the chaos, many of which seem to be from Pelgia, which is another problem in and of itself." Chrom answered with an exhausted sigh.  
"That's unfortunate." Said the queen, her face falling.  
"I have been in contact with Ferox, the negotiations were pushed back, but not as far as I would have  
hoped. To make the meeting, you will have to leave quickly."  
"But negotiations could take weeks." said Chrom, "We can't leave things this way are that kind of time."  
"I've arranged things." said Emmeryne, raising her hand. "The shepherds are not the only defense this country has to offer."

"M'lady," said Frederick, " causing both Chrom and Emmeryn to glance at him.  
"I request to take the... Guest, back to the barracks."

Emmeryn seemed to gather what was on his mind.  
"Your presence is needed here, but you may be dismissed," she said, switching her gaze to Barley.  
"You are free to go where you like, the Shepherds will provide any supplies you'll need. I can provide a guard to escort you back to the barack if you wish."  
"I'm alright." Said Barley, just the tiniest bit shakily.  
"If you're certain." Said Emmeryn.  
Barley saluted again, and was out the door as fast as was not suspicious.

As soon as Barley was out of sight of the throne room, she broke into a trot, burning away some of her built up nerves. She remembered the way out well enough, and soon, she was being nodded out by the guards at the front gate.

• • •

Once outside again, Barlay let out a deep sigh of relief.  
She seemed to have acquired a clean slate from the head of government, as far as that went, and so  
long as that could be taken at face value. One thing was for sure though, Barley had no intention of  
going back to the 'Shepherd's' base of operations. She had enough supplies to last a short while, best  
to head off now, put some space between her and them before somebody changed their mind...

She wound her way through the castle, drawing as little attention to herself as possible.  
She remembered the way out easily enough. The guards at the castle entrance nodded to her as she  
approached, opening the front gate.

"So... Where are you heading now?"  
Barley slowed to a halt, screwing her eyes shut for a moment before turned to see Liz teetering  
back and forth on her heels.

They just sort of looked at each other for a moment, neither really knowing what to say.  
"I was going to head off again." answered Barley finally.  
"Any plans in particular? Going to head back to your homeland?" Liz questioned.  
"I'm going to try." Said Barley softly. She hoisted her bag further on her back.  
"I have a long way to go I had better be off."

Liz looked displeased by this ending of the conversation.  
"But it's late now." she retorted. "You're not going to make it very far tonight."  
"And... And it may not be that good of an idea to be on the road at night, especially by yourself." she  
said, speaking faster. "Maybe you can just stay here for a night?"  
"I'll probably end up staying somewhere on at the edge of the city."

Liz wasn't happy with this response either.  
"Don't do that!" she said, making Barley flinch at the loudness of her tone. "Not when you have a place to stay for free."

Barley sighed as she caught on to where she was going with this.  
"Liz... I appreciate the offer, but I don't know if it's such a good idea." she said, trying to slowly get back to moving.

"Oh, but please, we insist." Chrom said, walking up behind his sister.  
Barley was starting to feel rather uncomfortable again, this was exactly the situation she had been  
trying to avoid. To persist in refusing could be taken as an insult, but this whole thing could very well be a plan to keep strings on her.

Chrom didn't make her respond, though he still seemed to be in a hurry. After waiting for a polite  
moment, and when no answer was forthcoming, he started to walk back towards the barracks at a brisk pace. Liz was less easily deterred, she grabbed Barley's hand, and started to drag her along behind.

* * *

Notes:

This chapter has been such a pain in the neck. Chunks of it went mysteriously missing on two separate occasions, both of which had to be rewritten, and the formatting process was particularly nightmare inducing. All in all, I am so glad to finally have it up and done with.

I know problems with stuff like this is inevitable, if you think everything will run smoothly all the time you're fooling yourself, but I would have really preferred it not happen so soon. Fingers crossed that nothing like this will happen again for a while.  
All the wrinkles have been ironed out, and the next chapter should go up as planned on Friday.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

It was well getting on towards evening by the time the little group got back to the barracks. The tops of the buildings and the mountains were still light, but the streets themselves were bathed in inky shadows. The warm glow spilling from the windows of the barracks made it look rather inviting, despite everything.

Chrom walked straight up to the door and held it open.  
"You're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like." he said, waving Barley and Liz inside. "If you still want to go in the morning, we can send you on you way with some aid. Liz will help you, get settled; I need to attend to some things."

With that, He disappeared down one of the halls leading off the entry.

Liz dragged Barley into the dining room, not letting her hand go. It was as if she was afraid that if she let go, Barley would disappear into thin air.

"Ok, I'm going to get dinner started. Could you go grab Sumia for me? And you can help too!" Liz said with bubbling happiness.

"Me and cooking, don't mix well." Said Barley, starting to resist her pulling for the first time in a while. "I've tried, but it usually doesn't end well."

"Oh, at least give it another try. Sumia is pretty awful at cooking everything but desserts, and we get by just fine on what we can make. None of us are exactly world class cooks." Liz said with a dismissive wave of her hand, going about deftly getting things prepared in the kitchen. "Oh, maybe we can try putting together something from your homeland! Foreign food is fun to try!"

"I burn everything." Said Barley, flatly.  
"Awwww." Liz pouted, though seemed to take the hint.

She brushed past Barley and threw a pot onto the stove. "RICK, I NEED A FIRE." She yelled out of the room causing Barley to clap her hands over her ears.

Barley stayed in the corner and watched for a while, but eventually just slunk away and tucked herself near the bookshelf. The only other person there was a woman in long robes and pointed hat. She glanced up at Barley, giving her a raised eyebrow before going back to her book, and seemingly paying her no other attention.

Barley picked a random book off the shelf and flipped through the pages. It was written in a strange scrawling language, one she most definitely couldn't read. Not really surprising, though everyone here did seem to speak a language she could more or less understand.

She continued to flip through it anyways, looking for any diagrams or pictures, but there were none, so she slid it back on the shelf.

"You need help there?" Chris asked, walking up with a pile of his own books to replace on the shelf. "You're looking rather confused."

"Not really, at least it's nothing you can help with." she said.

"Suit yourself." Chris shrugged, pulling off half a dozen books from the shelf for himself, and plopping down haphazardly on the floor.

Barley picked a few more for herself, and began to flip through them at random. Eventually, she stumbled into some maps at the back of one of the older ones, which she took to studying to the best of her ability. She wished she could just take a map some sort, or at least take a picture of one.

She spared a glance at Chris, just in time to catch him doing the same at her. Yeah, trying to use a tablet camera right now would not be a good idea. She sighed and turned a few more pages, then stopped. It was another map, but that wasn't the interesting thing; it was a few words scrawled in a corner. Words written in a language she could actually make out. Or at least, kind of. Whoever had written it had horrible handwriting. Next to the words was a little arrow pointing to a set of mountains.

"Are you sure there isn't something I can help you with?" Chris asked again, looking over from his stack of books.

"I can't read the language." said Barley.

"Ah ha... Well, that makes sense. I can give you some pointers if you would like. I haven't forgotten my vocabulary at least." Chris offered, shutting his own book.

"If you wouldn't mind..." Said Barley.

She repositioned some, trying to move herself and her books closer to Chris, but stopped dead as a figure loomed up in front of the shelves. It was Frederick.

He glowered down at her disapprovingly before turning his attention to Chris.  
"His majesty requests your presence in the war room." He said shortly.

Chris nodded to Frederick, and gave Barley an apologetic look. "Sorry Barley. Maybe some other time. I'd really like to help you, as I'm learning a lot of this stuff myself." He closed his book, gave Barley a pat on the head, and briskly joined Frederick, walking towards one of the back rooms.

Barley flattened her hair and started pouring through the books again. Nothing else of note happened for a while. She only stopped when she noticed people were gathering round the tables.

She pushed herself up and started to make her way to what looked like a quiet corner, but was intercepted by the ever present Liz. She still had her apron on, and was wearing a smile even broader than usual. There was a steaming plate of food in each hand.

She looked disapprovingly at Barley's location.  
"Don't you want to sit over there by everybody else?" She asked. Though she didn't give Barley any time to answer. Probably because she knew what she would say.  
"Here, come sit by me."  
Barley let herself be dragged, again, to another table. A table which was more or less in the middle of everything.  
"Right there." She said, seating her on the bench. "I'll be right back, just as soon as I finish helping."

Liz dropped both her bowls off, sliding one carefully in front of Barley before bouncing off to continue help. It grew loud quickly as the team gathered around for the evening meal. Sumia and, surprisingly, Chrom, were handing out bowls of food.

After a while Liz returned again, her apron tucked under one arm.

"You know, you didn't have to wait for me" she said as she sat down. "Now you're food's all cold."

"It's still warm." said Barley, digging in as soon as Liz was settled.

Absently, Barley calculated the length of the day she had just endured.  
Between a whole day back home, and about a half day here, she was running at about seventeen hours now. No wonder she felt sick.

"Sooooo...?" Liz drawled out. Barley looked at her with tired, confused eyes.

"Well, how's the food!"  
"It's good." She said quietly. "Thank you."  
If it was even possible, Liz smile grew even wider.  
Barley smiled too. It was kind of hard not to around Liz somehow.

There was the clomp of boots, and Chrom sat heavily down at the table across from his sister.  
He smiled pleasantly at Barley, and took a spoonful of his food.

"You know, I'm a bit surprised to see you're here still, Barley" He said after a loud gulp. "Didn't you have places to be?"

"Liz wouldn't let me leave until morning." Said Barley.  
Chrom chuckled at this.  
"Well, as I mentioned before, you're welcome to stay as long as you like, but if you really are intent on leaving as soon as possible, I'll have someone help you with supplies in the morning."  
"Thank you," said Barley.  
Liz was looking displeased again.  
"I would like to apologize again for the inconvenience this has caused you," continued Chrom, "I hope we haven't damaged your plans too severely"  
" It's fine. I understand the situation" Said Barley.

Chrom nodded, and turned his attention to his sister.  
"I'm taking some people to Farox tomorrow to finally deal with those negotiations." he said.  
"Oh, we're doing than now? Alright, I'll be ready." Said Liz, nodding flamboyantly.  
"Actually, you won't be coming this time. Emmeryn's given you your own assignment."

Liz's eyes swelled as big as saucers. "Oooh, what is it?" Then a wave of suspicious swept over her face. "This isn't something to keep me out of the way, is it?" She said, in a tone that made her displeasure with the notion very obvious.

"No," said Chrom, with a chuckle. "This is very important. We need you to take a group to the Plegian outpost and talk to the gatekeeper about all the mercenaries slipping across our borders."

Liz looked rather shocked. "Oh. Okay...'"  
"You don't need to worry. Emmeryn and I both think you're ready. I just wanted to tell you before I announced anything."

Liz smiled nervously at him.

"Your majesty," said the unmistakable voice of Frederick. There was no telling how long he had been standing there, but chances were, a while.  
"Hello Frederick, sit down." Said Chrom. Frederick sat down on the bench next to him, setting his own dish heavily in front of him.  
"I just briefed Liz on her assignment."

Frederick nodded, but by the look on his face, he wasn't very fond of 'Liz's assignment.'  
"Who should I take with me?" Piped up Liz, her voice the slightest bit more shrill than usual.  
"That's already been taken care of," said Chrom, and gave her a warm, reassuring smile.  
"You don't need to worry, you'll do great."

"Sire," said Frederick.  
"Yes, Frederick?"  
The knight gave a meaningful glance at Barley, who had been quietly eating since the conversation with Liz had started. She was staring straight down into her soup, apparently trying not to make eye contact.  
Chrom sighed.

The rest of the meal passed more or less awkwardly. There wasn't much to talk about, or, at least, not much that Frederick would feel comfortable discussing in front of Barley; and you just had to take one look at the tired child on the bench to know that trying to strike up a conversation was totally useless. Once everyone had finished, Liz rounded up a few people and started to clear tables. To her credit, Barley did push herself up and help with this. Then she went back to her little corner, Liz trailing behind her.

Chrom gave everyone a few minutes after dinner to relax, then he stood up and took a position in the middle of the room. The chatter died down slowly, as people noticed him.

The chatter died down slowly as people noticed him,

"Okay friends, can I have your attention please?".

There was a general affirming silence.

"I'm sure you're all aware, but just as a refresher, to keep everyone on the same page, negotiations have been arranged between Yullise and Plasia to settle some of the issues we've been having of late. Tomorrow we'll be spitted into two groups, me leading one, and Liz leading the other. I will take a group to Ferox to conduct negotiation, while as Liz will take a smaller team to the border itself to deal with the issue of the bandits directly. We will leave first thing tomorrow morning, so be prepared. If you're with Liz, go to her for details, if you don't know where you're going, report to me. Hopefully this will put an end to the hostility between our two countries for good. Everyone get plenty of rest tonight is bound to be a long day."

Barley listened politely to the announcement, that is, until she saw Frederick's face. Apparently he thought she had no right to listen to Shepherd's inner working. Barley shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to do.

Liz sat stock still, with a nervous smile, waiting for Chrom to break the news to the other shepherds. When Chrom announced her part, she looked around at the other Shepherds to see what their reaction was, she seemed slightly disappointed that there was no significant response, but very much relieved at the same time. By the time Chrom was done, she was her buoyant self again. As the shepherds started to come to Chrom to be assigned their posts, she bounced across the room to where he was standing, ready to take command of her group.

All the shepherds made their way to Chrom over the course of the evening. Barley was left more or less to herself, and was just fine with that. She had wedged herself even further into the corner between the bookshelf and the wall, where she sat with a book open on her knees, fading in and out of consciousness.

She was vaguely aware of the bustling in the room, and the uncomfortable feeling that Frederick still watching her from somewhere. A feeling that followed her even when the world around her twisted in and out of twisted dream state.

Barley felt a touch on her shoulder and started. Liz started too, obviously not expecting that.

She sat up and looked at her with bleary eyes. It was dark now, the candle Liz was holding was the only light in the room.  
"You know, when we said you could stay here, that meant you got a bed." Said Liz.

Barley pushed herself up off the wall, and would have nodded, but her attention was caught by a movement behind Liz. It was Frederick.

He stood lowering a few steps behind Liz, hands clasped behind his back.  
"I think I'll stay up a little longer." Said Barley, a feeling of uneasiness and raw annoyance twisting inside of her.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Said Liz. "You look awful, you really should sleep."  
"I will," said Barley.  
Liz hesitated, then sighed.  
"I'll leave you the candle then I guess. I'll see you in the morning," she said, not sounding too sure. She set the light she had been carrying on the floor just outside Barley's corner, and walked away.

Frederick didn't move.

Barley resituate again and applied herself to the book of maps she had discovered, or at least tried. Her eyes didn't want to focus. Frederick just stood where he was, not moving, not saying anything. He just stood there at the edge of her candlelight, watching.

Barley tried not to pay him any attention. This was a battle of wills, and she was determined to win. After what seemed like ages, she heard his footsteps echo through the empty room, and down the hall that to the sleeping quarters.  
Barley let go a quiet sigh, a sense of releif flooding her little frame.

She set down the book and started to dig through her pack, eventually finding her sleeping bag She unrolled it carefully in her little space, There was no point in getting up now, not when she could be comfortable enough where she was. She snuffed out the candle and crawled into the toe of her sleeping bag.

It took her a while to fall asleep.

• • •

Chris tugged at the end of the odd bag wedged in the corner; Barley appeared to be inside it somewhere, if the lump was anything to go by. The lump shifted a little, confirming his suspicions. He tugged again, this time harder.

"Barley, Breakfast's waiting."  
The lump started to worm it's way to the top of the sack, and eventually, Barley poked her head out, looking tired, agitated, and bleary.

"Morning," said Chris, at a bit of a loss for what else to say.  
"Good morning." Said Barley quietly.

Chris cleared his throat.  
"Ahem, ah, breakfast is made, and you may want to go get some before it's gone."

Barley nodded, and proceeded to climb all the way out of her bag. She quickly packed the thing away and hoisted her pack back over her shoulder.  
Chris watched her rather amusedly.

"Do you take that thing everywhere you go?" He asked once she had finished.  
She nodded again, not looking at him. He shrugged.

Partially blind with sleep, Barley trudged toward the dining area. She was just about to make it through the doorway, when she ran into a solid mass. She staggered backward thinking she had somehow managed to hit a wall, until she looked up and saw a concerned face peering down at her.

She jumped back, much more awake than she had been.  
"I'm sorry, Kellam" said Barley. "I didn't see you."  
"That's alright," he said, with a sort of melancholy smile. "I'm used to that."  
"Kellam," said Chris, narrowly avoiding the same mistake Barley had made. "How long have you been here ?"  
"I've been here since I finished morning patrol."  
Chris looked befuddled.

"Are you doing alright?" Kellam asked, looking over to Barley again. "You still look really tired."

"I'm alright."

"If you say so. It's a long ride to Ferox, maybe you can rest some on the way or something." He answered, trailing off a bit. "Unless you are going with Liz? I never saw you talk to Chrom yesterday. Do you know where you were assigned?"

"Actually," said Barley, "I'm not staying. I'm heading off this morning."  
"Oh," said Kellam, frowning, "Why?"

He was cut off as he was walked into by another person coming from the dining room. There was a crash of armor and a roar of frustration, the bare chested axemen stumbled backward, holding his nose. Barley squeezed past the chaos into the dining area, leaving the two men to settle the matter between themselves. Chris stayed behind to mediate.

The morning meal seemed to be all but finished already, people were sitting around the tables still, but they seemed to be more occupied in chatting than anything else. Barley swept the room, looking for were she was supposed to go.

"Oh good you're up."  
Barley turned around to see Liz's perpetually cheery face. Absently she wondered how long Liz had been waiting there to ambush her. The thought made her smile.

Liz grabbed her hand and started to lead her across the room; She wasn't even going to give Barley the chance to pick an obscure table this time. They stopped at the table they had been at the night before.

Barley sat down as Liz skipped off. She returned a moment later with two plates of food.  
"I waited for you," she said happily. "You sure sleep a lot."  
"Yesterday was a long day." Replied Barley, taking the dish she was offered. "Sorry I made you wait."  
"I can understand that, but today will be better." she added with a bounce.  
Barley nodded halfheartedly.

Liz looked generally unimpressed with Barley's lack of enthusiasm.

"That's no way to approach a new day." Said Liz, in a chastising tone, wagging a finger in her face.  
Barley smiled into her porridge.

Liz sighed and started at her own food.

"I guess you didn't sleep in all that late." Said Liz absently, swinging her legs. "Everybody's up early for the trip."  
"When will everyone be leaving?" Asked Barley.  
"Really soon. When the carts are finished being loaded."  
"Will your group be leaving at the same time?"  
"No, I'll be going later in the morning. That'll leave plenty of time to get you set to go too.." Said Liz, looking glum.

Barely's expression faltered a bit. She wanted to say something to comfort her, but had no idea what. She settled for her best attempt at a reassuring pat in the shoulder.

There was a shuffle at the other end of the room, and Barley looked up to see Chrom and Chris walking toward them.

"Good, you're here. I was hoping to see you before I left." Said Chrom, nodding at Barley.

He reached into his pocket, producing a small envelope, and passing it off to her.

"Here. This document gives you free passage within our borders."

Barley took the envelope and opened it, looking over the unreadable text inside.  
"It basically says that the queen knows you're here, and is fine with it." said Chris, probably trying to cover any embarrassment she had about not being able to read. Barley nodded.  
"Thank you very much." She said.

Chrom nodded again and switched his attention to Liz.  
"We're just about done out there. We'll be heading out in twenty minutes."

"Alright." said Liz

"I'm going to head out and make sure everyone is ready. I'll have Frederick check up on you one last time before we leave."

"Okay!" Said Liz enthusiastically, trying to build up her spirit, though her tone still sounded rather anxious.

"Don't wait too long to leave yourself okay? I don't want you getting stuck somewhere tonight." Chrom added.  
Liz nodded, again, still looking somewhat worried.  
"You're going to do wonderfully." Said Chrom, ruffling her hair.

"Thanks, brother." Liz answered, brightening up considerably. Chrom gave a last wave as he made his way out, leaving the other three alone at the table. Chris cleared his throat awkwardly, dispelling the rising silence before it got to overpowering. "I should probably go help too."

"I should probably get moving as well," said Barley, standing up once he was gone. "I don't want to hold any of you up."

"Oh," Liz said suddenly, "Just a minute." She scurried toward the door, then thought twice and rounded to another direction. "Follow me." She said.

"Liz! Our wagon is about ready to go!" A boy with a ridiculous hat shouted in, just as they approached the door, then started as he realized the people he was talking to were right next to him. "Oh. Um, we're ready to go?"

"Okay, good." Said Liz, rubbing her ears "I was just coming to check on that."

Barley poked her head out the door; there was one single cart surrounded by a few people, most of which seemed closer Liz's age. There was only one person in the whole group who looked over seventeen. What were these people thinking?

Liz bounded around the cart, inspecting all the little details and making sure everything was up to her specifications. The rest of the group busied themselves in running in and out of the building, collecting any last minute items they thought would be useful and tucking them away in crevices. Barley stood to the side, hands clasped behind her back, looking somewhat worried about the whole situation.

"Alright," said Liz, when she was satisfied. "I think we're good. Half an hour, and we'll get going. I'll be right back, I still need to help send Barley off." "Come and get me if anybody needs anything." She said as she and Barley walked back towards the barracks.

"So..." Liz said, when they were inside, "What do you need?"  
"I don't need much." Said Barley. "I have most of what I need already. The only thing that comes to mind is a map."  
"I can get that for you," said Liz, picking up her pace.

She pulled Barley down the hall that lead off the main room. It was a simple, bare passage with three or four doors leading off to either side. Most stood partially open, giving Barley a glimpse of the sleeping quarters, an armory, and what she assumed to be a sparring room. Liz took her all the way to the end, and pushed gently on the last door.

Beyond was a little space furnished like an office. In the middle of the floor, stood a desk with books and papers stacked neatly on top of it; the walls were stuck all over with maps of varying sizes. A large south facing window bathed the whole room in warm light. It was by far the nicest room Barley had seen in the barrack.

"This is Chrom's study," said Liz. "It's mostly used for important meeting and tactical stuff. We also use it as a place to put things we don't want to get lost."  
Barley nodded.

Liz walked up to the desk and started digging through the drawers. After a few minutes of searching, she produced a small brown roll of paper tied with a leather strip.

"That should be what you need." She Said, holding it out.  
Barley took it and carefully unrolled it. It was a meticulously drawn map of the whole continent, with towns and roads carefully labeled.  
"It's perfect, but Are you sure I can take this?" She asked hesitantly.  
"Of course. I wouldn't have handed it to you otherwise." Answered Liz. "We have two or three more of those floating around here, and we can always get more if we need them."

Barley hesitated for a moment longer, but eventually just tucked the thing away in her bag.

"Thank you very much."

"Are you sure that's all you need?" Asked Liz. "We have all sorts of supplies you might be able to use."  
"I should have everything." Said Barley insistently.  
"Okay." Said Liz. "If you're sure."  
"I'm sure."

Outside, Liz's group was waiting on or around the cart. A bit of morning traffic peppered the street. Barley felt that twinge of anxiety for them come return..  
"So, I guess this is it." Said Liz, fiddling with the hem of her dress.  
"Yeah..." Said Barley.  
Liz sighed.  
"I'm glad I got to meet you." Said Barley.  
Liz smiled a little. "I'm glad I got to meet you too."  
"Who knows, maybe we'll see each other again sometime."  
"Yeah," said Liz, perking up. "The shepherds go all over the place. Maybe we'll bump into each other again."

Barley smiled at the return of her enthusiasm  
"Where are you going to go?" Asked Liz.  
Barley's smile faltered.  
"Oh.." Liz said, looking unhappy again.  
Barley tried to formulate some sort of explanatory sentence, but somehow couldn't manage it. There was no good way to explain the situation she was in.  
"No, I understand." Said Liz, stopping her efforts. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..."

"No, it's not that." Said Barley, starting to looking genuinely distressed. "It's not that at all." She ran her hand through her hair and sighed.  
"I would tell you where I was going if I could."  
Liz looked confused, then a slow look of understanding passed across her face.  
"You don't know where you're going, do you?"

There was a silence. All the pieces seemed to be falling into place in Liz's mind. Barley just stood there, having no idea what to say.  
"Barley!" Said Liz finally, "You can't just go wandering around, not with all that's going on with the raiders!"  
"I'm more than capable of taking care of myself." Said Barley.  
"Maybe, but you shouldn't just go looking for trouble like that."  
"Liz, I know what I'm doing. You don't need to worry about me."

Liz looked worried anyways.  
"Liz..."  
"Why don't you just stay with us?" Asked Liz. "We all want you."  
"I don't think that's true..."  
"Yes we do, or most of us do."  
"I can't stay here Liz."  
"But why not? You don't have to stay forever. You could go whenever you wanted to, and we could still help you. At least you wouldn't have to wander around lost."  
"I really don't think you could help me." Said Barley quietly.  
"Yes we could. I know we could."

There was another silence. Liz stood defiantly where she was, it was obvious she wasn't going to give on this.  
"Liz, darling," said someone behind her. It was the woman who was apparently going to drive the cart. "We need to leave soon."  
"I know." Said Liz, nodding. "I'll be right there."  
The woman nodded, and walked back to the cart.  
"Why don't you come with us?" Said Liz. "Just this time. If you still want to leave when we're done, you can. I won't try to stop you."  
Barley sighed.

"You don't even have to come all the way back if you don't want to. You can get off at a town we pass or something."  
Barley looked at the little group piled on and around the cart, who were looking at her expectantly. This whole thing was a bad idea...  
"Please Barley." Liz said, practically begging at this point.

"...Okay."

Liz literally jumped for joy. She rushed at Barley and clapped her in hug, causing her to go rigid in her arms.

"Come on," Said Liz, grabbing her hand. "It's getting really late."

* * *

 _A/N: Putting notes on old writing is remarkably hard. Maybe next time, folks._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

It took a while still for the group to get out of the city. They had started late enough for the street traffic to start congregating, and it took forever to get disentangled from it. People did their best to make them way, but Liz didn't have quite the crowd parting power of Chrom or Frederick. They had finally made it through though, and were making reasonably good time on the open road. Or, at least as reasonable a time as it was possible to make in a horse drawn cart on a country path.

Barley and Liz sat next to each other on the back of the cart just like before. Barley was watching the scenery while Liz hunched over a book she had brought, scribbling in it with a chunk of charcoal. She wiped a stray hair from her forehead, leaving a long black smudge across her face. Barley smiled.

"What are you doing?" She asked.  
"Keeping a log." Answered Liz.  
"Ah."

"I want to make sure I have a good report to show Emmeryn when this is over. Though there's not much to put in it yet. Just that I got you to come along." said Liz, giving a happy bounce with the last statement.

The cart jolted and Liz's charcoal made a smudgy line across the page. "Oh noooo."

She viciously attempting to wipe the line out with a rag, which debatably made the situation worse. Liz finally sighed and slid the book away, letting the offending piece of charcoal fall into the road.

The two sat there for a bit, not saying anything.  
"Are you sure it's alright that I'm coming?" Barley finally asked.  
"That's a funny thing to ask."  
"Everyone was expecting me to leave, and I said I was going to. I don't know how people will feel about me going with you after all that." Explained Barley  
"Well we told you you can stay as long as you want to." Said Liz. "Nobody's going to mind if you stuck around a little longer."  
Barley sighed. "The point I'm trying to make is I don't know if people trust me enough to let me go with you..."  
"That's silly." Said Liz. "If Emmeryn says you're okay, then that's good enough for all of us."  
"It didn't seem that way."  
"You really don't need to worry about it. Nobody will mind. Besides, I asked you to come, and I should be able to decide who I can take on my own missions right?"

Barley didn't answer that question. Liz didn't seem to notice.

"I'm so glad you decided to come." She continued. "I know you'll just love working with the Shepherds."  
Barley gave a rue sort of smile.  
"It's great. We get to go all over the kingdom protecting people and helping them out." Liz said happily. "Maybe if this goes well here, Chrom and Emmeryn will even give me more missions of my own."

"You've never done anything like this before?" Interrupted Barley sharply.  
"Nope, this is my first time." Said Liz proudly, but stopped as Barley's tone caught up with her.  
"What?" She said nervously.  
"Nothing, I'm just surprised."

Though the look on Barley's face didn't quite sell the idea of nothing.

"Hey, I can do this." Said Liz with a playful whine. "I've been training with my sister for a long time; I may not be as good at all that politics stuff as she is, but she says I'm getting better."  
"It's not that." Said Barley, though in all honesty, the more that point was discussed, the less confidant she felt in it. "It's just that the way people were talking about this other country we're going to make it sound like it's hostile."

Liz frowned.

"Oh. Well I see how you could get that impression. It's true, we've had problems with Plegia in the past, and we still have our rough spots, but we haven't had any real trouble with them in years. Besides," she added reassuringly, "Emmeryn wouldn't have let us go if she wasn't sure it was completely safe."

Barley didn't push the subject. She was the first to admit that she knew absolutely nothing about the matter, and Liz seemed confident enough. Though in all honesty, she didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

The trip wore on in silence for a while. Barley was still tired from the day before, and sleeping on the floor had not helped much. Though that was her own fault and she knew it. Behind her, she could hear the sound of the rest of the group talking, though the exact words were lost in the rhythmic rumble of the cart. Liz stayed next to her for a bit longer, Barley was vaguely aware of her eyes resting on her, but after a while, Liz moved back to join the others' conversation.

Barley stayed where she was, sinking deeply into thought now that she alone. They were worrying sorts thoughts, the kind that were probably best left alone.

• • •

"Look!" Shouted Liz, snapping Barley back to the present "Look! It's Chrom's group!"  
Barley looked around her. Liz had joined her again at some point, though she couldn't have told when. They were still rolling through fields, though there were defiantly more rocks now. Up ahead, there was a three way split in the road, at which Liz was pointing frantically.

They could see a decent sized caravan turning onto the northern path, and could make out a few of their companions riding alongside it on horses. Liz called out to them as loud as her little voice could manage, waving her arms. The person sitting on the end the last cart looked up. It was Chris. Liz called his name, still waving. He set down his book and waved back, smiling at her antics. His wave suddenly slowed, and he looked confused. His eyes were resting on Barley. Barley felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"That's kind of odd that we caught up with them." Said Liz, once they were out of sight. "You know what probably happened?" She asked nobody in particular, tapping her chin. "They probably took one of the carts with the busted wheel."

Barley didn't answer.

Liz looked over at her. Barley was sitting there just like she had been for the past hour. Liz sighed. Something she was doing much more than usual today.  
"You don't talk a lot do you?" She asked.  
Barley smiled a bit.  
"I'm just a little tired is all."  
"Yeah, I'm not surprised. You looked awful last night. And you can't have slept well there on the floor..."  
Liz swung her legs and looked down at the road.  
"Why didn't you come to the sleeping quarters with everyone else last night?" she asked finally.  
"I didn't want to be marched into the room like a prisoner." Said Barley said flatly.  
"What do you mean?" Asked Liz, looking up suddenly. "That wasn't what I was trying to do at all."  
"I don't mean you." Said Barley, trying to undo the damage she had obviously done. "I was was worried about, Frederick... He had been watching me all night, and was waiting for me to go to the sleeping quarters so he could keep an eye on me there."

"Oh..." Said Liz. "I'm sorry. I had no idea he was making you so uncomfortable."  
Barley chuckled. Liz was looking very concerned.  
"I'm not bothered." Said Barley reassuringly, "Not at all. I just needed to know whether I was still under arrest or not. If he would have forced me to come, I would have known that I was still considered a prisoner."  
"You were never considered a prisoner." Said Liz, shocked that such a thought was even considered. "We just needed to make sure you weren't up to any trouble is all, and you're not. Emmeryn told you you were free to go."  
"That may not have meant all it sounded like."

Liz sighed.  
"I don't know how things work where you come from, but when my sister says something, she means it. You're completely free to do whatever you want to now, nobody will force you to do anything. Not even Frederick."  
There were a few minutes of awkward silence. Liz sighed again.  
"I wish that whole thing wouldn't have had to happen. That's not how things are supposed to be. We've just had to be so careful lately. Between the Bandits and those monsters, everybody's a bit on edge. A lot of people still think Plegia has spies hidden here too."  
"I understand where you're coming from." Said Barley. "And like I said, I'm not bothered. It's just not a pleasant thing to be on the other end of..."  
She hesitated, trying to find the right words for the sentiment she was trying to express.  
"And it wouldn't have been the first time I was ground under the wheels of a situation like that."  
"I'm sorry we riled you up so badly." Said Liz, looking at her feet.  
"Please don't feel bad. It's not your fault."

Liz obviously did feel bad. It was Barley's turn to sigh.  
"You know, if this mess never would have happened, I wouldn't be here right now." She said, looking hopefully at Liz.  
"I guess that's true." Liz answered, "And I am glad you're here."

Silence reigned again.  
"Why on earth would there be spies here from that other country if everything's going fine between you?" Asked Barley, attempting to change the subject. Her brow furrowed as she continued to follow that train of thought. "And the bandits you're having trouble with are from there too."  
"Nobody knows if there are really spies here." Said Liz. "It's just a rumor that floats around. We've not found any spies that I've heard of, and I'm sure I would have heard of it, being in the castle all the time. As for the bandits, just because they're from Plegia, doesn't mean that Plegia wants them here. If they weren't over here, they would probably still be bandits."  
"There still seems to be a lot going on between the two of you for a country 'you haven't had trouble with in years'."  
"It's complicated."

Barley didn't push the matter, but Liz continued after a moment of her own accord.  
"We had a war with them several years ago. It was my father who started the mess," said Liz cautiously. "He came up with some big complicated reason, but he really just wanted their land. The Plegians were able to hold him back, but it was a mess for everybody. There's been a lot of bad blood between our countries ever since. Emmeryn's been trying to patch things up since she became exalt though. That's the main reason there's been so few problems between us lately. We've been working to set up a new treaty with them. That's what Chrom's going up north for right now. After these peace negotiations, we should be able to go back to being allies."  
"I see." Said Barley. "Well I hope everything goes well."

• • •

The conversation died a miserable death after that. Barley's line of thought seemed to have effectively quelled Liz's bounciness. A fact that didn't make her feel terribly good, and her own thoughts were churning away in her head. The conversation had resparked her concerns about the whole venture they were on as well, the whole thing seemed slippery at best. She looked over the little group of people piled on the cart. They were only five strong including herself, and not exactly equipped to deal with any trouble if it arose; one of them was honest to goodness wearing a cooking pot for a helmet. The current set up left absolutely no room for error.

It wasn't much longer before they made it to the base of the mountains. The road continued through a large canyon carved between their feet.  
"We should be getting close." Said Liz. "The fort is built at the end of the canyon, if I remember right."  
"The border seems awfully close to your capital." Said Barley.  
"Yeah, It was really useful when we weren't enemies."  
Barley couldn't argue with that logic.

The canyon road was one of the worst they had been on yet. They bounced around like beans in a can as the cart rolled over the chunks of rock and pebbles that littered the ground. Cliffs rose up on either side a good thirty feet, and they only got taller as they traveled on. It wasn't long before a large structure could be made out ahead.

"There it is," said Liz. "That's the border gate."  
Barley got up on her knees to get a better look at the structure. It straddled the width of the canyon, and it easily stood half as tall as the cliffs on either side. There was massive, thick barred gate set in it's center, a formidable obstacle to anyone who would want to get across the border uninvited. Several guards could be made out on top of the wall, keeping a watch. All in all it was a formidable looking fortress.

"Who goes there?" One of the men shouted as the cart approached.  
Mary reigned in her horse, stopping the cart just out of the shadow of the wall. She turned around and looked back at Liz, who stood up carefully on the cart and took a deep breath.  
"Princess Elizabeth of the Yllise." She shouted as loud as she could.  
Despite the distance, they could tell the guard started. He turned around, shouted something to his companions, and was lost to sight behind the partition of the wall. A moment later, there was a harsh metallic grinding and the massive gate began to inch open.

The horse shifted and nickered uneasily; Mary whispered a few calming words in it's ear, adjusting the reigns to keep him still. As soon as the gate was high enough, a tall, angular man walked out to meet them. He was flanked by two guards and dressed in thick, purple, gold and green robes that nearly dragged the ground. He stopped a respectful distance away, though he didn't bow.

"Princess Elizabeth." He said, loudly. "How may I be of service?"  
"I'm here to talk to whoever's in charge of the gate." Liz answered back.  
"Ah, I see," said the man. He pondered this for a moment. "Such a meeting could be arranged. If you would be pleased to follow me."  
He waited for all the group to clamber off the cart and catch up with him, then turned around smoothly and lead them back to the fortress.

Inside the gate was a massive arched hall, obviously built to accommodate traffic passing between the two countries. At the far side, there was another gate, beyond which you could just make out the rest of the canyon. As they entered, their guide whispered a few short words to one of his guards. The soldier nodded and slipped away.  
"I do apologize for our unpreparedness. This visit was quite unexpected."  
Said the man, as if nothing had happened. He turned sharply and lead them down one of the many passages leading off of the hall.  
"Because of the suddenness of the request, it may take us a small amount of time to arrange the meeting."  
"That's alright." Said Liz, trotting on his heels. "We can wait."  
"You are quite gracious." Said the man, though his tone was off, something bordering a smirk. Liz didn't seem to notice.

As they wound deeper into the fortress, Barley grew increasingly uneasy. She didn't care for their companion, or his bearing. She stuck close to Liz, keeping track of the rooms they went through. Just in case they need to find their own way out. The path they were taking was fairly straightforward, and seemed to be leading to the center of the fortress. The whole place had the same feel as the first room; he halls were wide and spacious, and the etched doorways looked in on numerous, high ceilinged rooms. Elegance was breathed into every line of the architecture, but it was all empty, bare stone. Only a few sorry remnants of the place's old furnishings remained, musty reminders of what the place used to be once upon a time. A memorial to better times since past.

Their guide finally stopped in front of one of the doorways. Inside was yet another of the airy rooms, though this one still had a bit of faded furniture left in it. As they entered, they saw that the guard that had been sent away was waiting inside of the doorway. As everyone moved into the room, their guide hung back and exchanged a few more words with him.

"If you would be pleased to wait here a moment," he said when he was finished,  
"I've been summoned away to see to important matters. I will be back momentarily."  
And with that, he marched out of the room, accompanied by the guard.  
Barley watched them go uneasily. If something was off though, no one else seemed to have picked up on it. The little group spread out across the little room, idly waiting for their guide to return.

"Well," said Mary, breaking the silence. "This place certainly hasn't improved with the years. Though I suppose you can't expect much more from Plegia "  
Liz heaves a sigh and sat down on one of the faded chairs.  
Mary looked as if she would sit next to her, but at the site of the moth eaten cushion, she gingerly stepped away.  
"Honestly." She muttered under her breath.  
"It's kind of sad." Said Liz, running her hand over the ragged fabric. "This place used to be so nice."  
"You've been here before?' Asked Barley.

Mary looked at her aghast at her intrusion in the situation.  
Liz didn't seem to share the sentiment. "Mary and I used to come here all the time when we were little. It used to belong to Ylisse back then," she added quietly, as if she was afraid someone would hear.  
"Why did it change hands?" Asked Barley.  
"Plegia took it early on during the war. Father never could get it back. And when Emmeryn became Exalt, she just let it alone for peace's sake."  
"And as expected, they've let it go to shambles." Emphasized Mary.

The sound of footsteps in the room cut the conversation short. The robbed man stepped into the room again, accompanied by his guard.  
"Your majesty," he said, politely, "You're presence is being awaited in the conference room. If you would be pleased to follow me?"  
Liz jumped off of the chair.

"The rest of you may wait here." He added, as the rest of the people in the room started to move forward as well.  
Liz looked uncomfortable for a moment, then took a deep breath and stepped forward. Barley stayed behind her, despite the request. Out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of Mary giving her another look. Barley ignored her.

Liz hardly seemed to notice her at all as she walked out of the room. The robed man eyed her intently as she passed him, but didn't say anything. It would be pushing his luck to deny Liz this one attendant. They weren't taken very far, just to another room down the hall.  
"Right this way, my lady," he said, holding the door open for her. Liz nodded and walked stoutly into the room, Barley on her heels. The man didn't follow, just shut the door behind them.

• • •

The room they found themselves in struck a perfect contrast with what they had seen of the fort so far. It was decked out in full splendor, almost to the point of gaudiness. The walls were draped with thick, luxurious hangings, and a deep rug lay on the floor. In the center of the room stood a square table framed with silver, surrounded by matching, satin cushioned chairs. Everything was in brilliant colors, and branded with the same seal, which apparently belonged to Plegia. The far end of the table was flanked by two guards, between which sat a very peculiar man with an equally peculiar woman on his arm. Liz went rigid at the sight of them.

"Ah, princess Elizabeth." He said as they entered, his face splitting into a downright unnatural smile.  
"What a delightful, unexpected surprise."  
"King Gangrel," Liz answered stiffly.  
"Well don't just stand there," he said, waving his hand at her, "Take a seat."  
Liz slid into the chair opposite him. Barley took up a position behind her, still standing, mirroring the guards on the opposite end. Gangrel eyed her curiously, his eyebrow making a displeased arch, then it was gone, and his attention was back on Liz.

"It's been awhile since the Ylissean royals graced this fort with their presence." He said in a casual droll. "What draws you to the border on this fine day?"  
Liz swallowed, then gave a little cough.  
"I have some business to discuss..." She started, but didn't get much further.  
"Good, good," said Gangrel, still holding that ridiculous smile. "Though I was under the impression that your brother was handling this particular situation in the north."  
"No, he is, I mean, that's not what I'm here to talk about." Said Liz quickly.  
"Then what could you possibly be here for?"  
"I'm here to discuss the matter of thieves leaking across your borders." Said Liz.  
"Ah, that little thing."

Liz seemed taken aback. Gangrel didn't say anything more though, so she cautiously continued.  
"Droves of thieves have been terrorizing out towns and villages. The majority of which seem to hail from Plegia. That's not to say that it's your fault, or had anything to do with it," she added quickly, "But it would be much appreciated if you would tighten guard on the borders."

Gangrel considered this for a moment. "I would like nothing better than to be of assistance in this," he said finally, "But I'm far too busy to be taken up in such trivial matters. Things like your treaty, and rebuilding towns of my own which have been destroyed over the last ten years."  
"But this matter concerns the treaty." Said Liz. "Once it's signed, it's our responsibility to support each other in things like this."  
"That is true, but the treaty isn't signed yet, is it?" He said smoothly.  
"But, you're going to sign it," said Liz anxiously.  
"Well, I don't know. That depends on how the negotiation proceed. And there's no telling how long those will take, with the traveling back and forth of messengers, and their unavoidable miscommunications. But I'm afraid your little matter will have to wait until we reach a conclusion."  
"If it's that much of an issue, why didn't you go yourself?" Asked Liz cautiously.  
"I would have liked nothing better than to attend personally, but it's hardly as simple as what I would have wanted. Such things are much easier for you, with your three headed royal line, but I am only one man, on who's shoulders all the burdens of state rest. To travel abroad is nearly impossible for someone in my position." The king said mournfully. "But, your presence has provided a golden opportunity. I now have the ability to negotiate a peace between our two countries in person."

"I don't have authority to do anything like that." Said Liz, trying furiously to backpedal out of the situation she was being sucked into.  
"But it would be shameful to throw away an opportunity such as this." Pleaded Gangrel. "Royal blood from both Plegia and Ylisse seated peaceably in the same room for the first time in a generation. There is potential here to mend years of discord between us."  
Liz sat uncertainly in her chair; he king's points seemed to be hitting home.  
"Even if you can't make any decisions, you must at least have the courtesy to hear what I have to say. You can convey it yourself to your exalt, unaltered by careless messengers.  
Liz hesitated a moment longer, but finally she broke down. "Okay.."  
"Wonderfull." Said Gangrel, clapping his hands together like an excited child. "On to business then."

"I have been quite impressed by your sister's attempts to make amends since she ascended the throne," he began, resting his steepled fingers on the table. "And your proposed treaty is very tempting. It's quite refreshing to be treated like an equal, and not a dog in the mud. It's something I could bring myself to get used to. There is one tiny concern that I have, the matter of your sincerity."  
Liz seemed bothered by this statement.  
"I should hardly have to justify this concern. You know very well the history between our two countries. This is hardly the first time Ylisse and Plegia have tried to sign a treaty."  
"That is true..." Said Liz.  
"How can I be certain that if I lower my guard, Ylisse won't attempt to finish what they started all those years ago?" Argued Gangrel in a dangerous tone.  
"Ylisse doesn't work that way anymore. We want peace just as much as you do."  
"An easy thing to say." Replied Gangrel quickly.  
"Is there anything we can do to prove our intentions to you?" Asked Liz.  
"There is, but It would require a significant show of trust to allay my concerns."  
"We're ready to do anything to put the war behind us."

Gangrel seemed pleased by that response. He lounged back in his chair, eyes lolling half closed as he appeared to consider.  
"I have already put a great deal of thought into this matter." he said sagely. "The traditional method of addressing this issue would be a marriage, though, in this situation, such a settlement would be just as unpleasant for one side as the other. I was however able to think of a suitable replacement. Your Fire Emblem."

Liz sat back in her chair, stunned.

"If you would entrust us with your Fire Emblem," Continued Gangrel, "It would prove without a shadow of a doubt your good will toward us. I could sign your treaty without hesitation, and move beyond our petty squabbles once and for all."  
"That won't work." Said Liz suddenly. "What your asking for is impossible."  
"I hardly see why," said Gangrel, unshaken.  
"The Fire Emblem is tied to the land itself. It can't be given away. It's like asking for us to give you our capitol city."  
"That could be an arrangeable situation." Said Gangrel, smiling. "Though I do believe you're working up the matter. The Fire Emblem has changed hands numerous times since it's creation."

Gangrel had been growing more excitable over the course of the meeting. He was doing a convincing job holding his calm together, but his eyes had taken on a dangerous glint. He watched Liz intently for a few moments, waiting for her to respond, but she didn't. The matter was obviously closed in her mind completely.

Barley shifted uncomfortably. Things could easily go south here very fast.  
Despite everything, Gangrel's smile still held.  
"It's unfortunate that you would be so unyielding in such a simple matter." He said. "Especially after all your big talk of being ready to do anything for your cause."  
Liz still didn't respond. She was the picture of defiance sitting in her chair.  
"You said yourself you're hardly one to judge such things. At least have the courtesy to take my proposal to your sister."  
Barley put her hand on Liz's shoulder. It was time to go, and this was their door out. Liz didn't even seem to notice.  
"You can't have the Fire Emblem. No amount of negotiations will be able to change that."

Gangrel's smile twisting into something of a grimace  
"That's unfortunate," he said mournfully, "Then I'm afraid no treaty can't be reached between us."  
Liz started.  
"What?"  
Gangrel ignored her, pushing himself up from his chair.  
"There is one more little matter that needs attending before you go." A smile crept over his face again. "The matter of your trespassing on Plegian ground."

He waved his hands at the guards behind him.  
"Arrest them."

* * *

Notes: In case you haven't noticed, this is the beginning of the end when it comes to the game's original plot. Was it on purpose? No, not really, but it doesn't change the fact that things spiral wildly out of control from here on out.

Fun fact- The whole thing with Liz leading her own mission to the boarder wasn't an intentional alteration, it was a mistake on my part because I hadn't played the game for a while when we started this. I think it was an improvement personally, but I can only speak for myself.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Liz was dumbfounded.

Thankfully, the soldiers seemed to be taken just as much off guard as she was. Barley didn't wait for everyone to gather their wits; she tore Liz out of her chair and lunged for the door, breathing a prayer of thanks as it swung open easily. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw the dark woman raise one of those books. They careened into the hallway just in time to avoid a blast of boiling, frothing ooze. It splattered against the wall, then slid slowly to the ground in thick ribbons, liquefying the stones in it's wake.

Barley sprinted forward, dragging Liz behind her by the wrist. She seemed barely conscious of what was going on, hardly able to put one foot after the other. Barley was petrified that she was going to trip over herself; if that happened, it would be all over. She looked back to see the two guards finally perusing; at least it was only them.

They made for the room the rest of the group had been left in, desperately hoping they were still there. All the noise must have caught the their attention, because when they reached the place, they were all standing in the doorway. They gave a collective start as they saw Barley and Liz rushing toward them.

"Move!" Barley yelled at them, waving her free hand. She couldn't understand why they were all just standing there like that. At first they only seemed more confused, and in the case of Mary, downright incredulous, probably at her tone, but all was made clear as the guards came charging around the corner. They scrambling out the door as Barley and Liz passed, Rick launching a ball of wind at their pursuers before falling into line.

They tore through the fort, Barley in the lead. Word of what had happened didn't seem to be spreading very quickly; any guards they passed just looked after them confused. Somewhere in the base, bells started to ring. Instantly people started moving, but they still didn't seem to understand what was going on. Troops of guards marched straight past them the toward the source alarm, apparently to check out the situation. The few guards who did seem to catch on were quickly lost in the mess.

The great hall was almost empty when they reached it. Most of the soldiery seemed to have moved wholesale towards wherever the alarm bell was, leaving them a straight shot to the gate. A gate that was quickly being closed.

The group faltered, there was no way they could cross the room in time.  
"Come on!" Shouted Barley, starting to become exasperated. She charged straight forward, dragging Liz across the threshold, with the rest of the group following their example.

They almost made it. Though 'almost' never helped anyone.

Barley slammed into the closed gate, not bothering to kill her momentum. She looked around frantically, completely at a loss. Guards were starting to trickle into the room at an alarming rate; news of the situation seemed to finally be common knowledge, and they were being tracked down. Barley corralled the group into a shadowed corner beside the gate, hoping they hadn't been seen.

She looked over the knot of people huddled in the corner, trying to come up with a plan. Liz was unsteady on her feet, and her eyes were unfocused; she looked like she was on the edge of shock. Mary didn't look much better, her back was planted against the wall, her staff clamped in a white knuckle grip. The boys held their weapons ready, prepared for a last stand, their features set, but Barley could see they were shaking. There was no happy ending here. Very soon they would be discovered, and where they stood now, they'd be cornered and killed in a matter of minutes.

"We're going to get trapped here if we don't move." said Barley urgently. Nobody seemed to notice.  
She put her hands on Liz's shoulders, trying to get her attention.  
"Liz?" Barley asked, forcing her voice to be smooth and calm. "Is there another way we can get out of this place?"

Liz muttered something unintelligible.  
Somebody grabbed Barley's arm harshly. It was Mary. She shrugged her off.  
"Liz, you need to snap out of it. We are all going to die if we don't move now. Is there another way out of here other than the gate?"  
"I don't know..." Muttered Liz. "I don't remember."

Barley took a deep shuddering breath. The hall was a din of shouting and tramping. The guards were uncomfortably close. She wrung her brain for some course of action. No good ones came to mind. No matter where they went, chances were they would just find themselves in another dead end. Then Barley had an idea.

"Can you get us to the roof then?" She asked.  
Liz slowly nodded and took a few staggering steps forward. She peeked around the corner cautiously, then grabbed Barley's arm and started to run along the wall.

The group only made it a few feet before they were seen. Liz redoubled her pace as guards began to shout an alarm. On the far side of the room, she rounded into a little doorway. Inside was a narrow, upward twisting stairway. Liz didn't hesitate for a second, just started to bound up three at a time. Barley extricated herself from Liz's grip and started to fall back in line.

"You in front," she said, tagging the boy with the pot on the way down.  
"What now?" He said breathlessly.

"I'll cover the back, you take the front." Said Barley.  
"Oh, Yes Ma'am." And instantly took up a position beside Liz, holding his spear ready.

The stairs were treacherously steep, and the dim lighting didn't help anything. They were all starting to wear out, andinevitably beginning to slow down. The torrent of guards following them were quickly gaining; the whole place rang with clanging metal and shouting.

There was the sound of boots ahead of them; three guards almost slammed them on the way down, triggering a yelp from Liz. The man in front jumped back into his companions, obviously just as surprised. The boy with the pot didn't give them time to recover. He lashed out with his spear, sending him tumbling headlong down the stairs. Mary just barely avoided being taken down with him as he fell through the group.

The second man had his sword out by this time; he slashed at the boy, who only just managed to catch the blow on the shaft of his spear. The other man raised his ax, ready to finish him off. There was an explosion as the other boy released a burst of fire. The man with the ax yelled and stumbled back, dropping his weapon.

Barley dashed forward with her staff, ramming the swordsman bearing on the boy to the ground. He let out a winded whumph and tipped forward, following his companion down the stairs. The group dodged around the axe men and kept moving. He wasn't in any position to be causing trouble. Below, there was a terrible commotion. Apparently the men they had sent tumbling had just collided with the rest of the soldiers.

The stairs luckily didn't go on for much longer, they ended abruptly at a little circular guard room. The boys heaved shut it's thick wooden door as soon as everyone was through; that would at least buy them a little more time. The group stood gasping for a moment, hardly capable of much else. At least the deserted room they were in seemed safe enough. For the moment.

They didn't dare take more than a few seconds rest.  
"That's- that's the way to the roof." Said Liz, still panting. She pointed to a little ladder leaning against one wall; in the ceiling above it was a little trap door. The boy with the pot climbed up immediately, and started to shove.  
"It won't budge." He said after a moment. "It's locked or blocked from the other side or somethin'."  
Someone started pounding at the door behind them, shaking it to the hinges.  
"Let me see," said the other boy, climbing up behind him.  
"Wait, let me get down first!" Said the first boy. They were soon in a nice tangle. Mary stepped forward, attempting to help them get straightened out.

Barley ground her teeth. A few ax men seemed to be having a go at the door from the other side. It's timbers were starting to split alarmingly fast. They had two minutes at best before the room would be swamped with soldiers.  
The boy with the book had finally managed to get to the top. He pounded at the door himself, then retreated a few steps.  
"Everybody back." He said, a little louder than necessary.  
On the other side of the door, everything had gone quiet.  
Barley and Liz looked at each other in alarm.

Thick globs of goo seeped through the fresh cracks in the door. Slowly, it began to disintegrate.  
Barley jumped forward, ready to hold back the first comers through.  
"Hurry Up!" She shouted, causing the boy to start. He fumbled with his book, trying to prop it up with one arm, then launched a few fireball into the trap door. The wood never stood a chance.

The door to the stairs was little more than a chunk of mush now. The men outside were trying to squeeze into the room, but the doorway was narrow, and nobody seemed quite keen on touching that goop. Barley landed a blow on a swordsman who was getting to bold, sending him reeling back into his companions. He was instantly replaced by a much less timid axemen. He launched himself straight through the hole, weapon raised.

Barley sidestepped as the ax crashed into the stone floor, and rapped him across his exposed ribs, causing him to yelp and twist away. Another man slipped through the gap. The boy with the pot skittered forward to Barley's aid, perusing the axemen across the room. He seemed to have the situation under control, so Barley left him to it. She turned to deal with the other man who had made it through the door, and found herself face to face with the steward. In one hand, he held one of those books, the other was leveled at Barley's chest.

There was a dull thwack, and he slumped to the ground. Liz stood behind him, staff raised, ready to follow up with another blow; though it didn't look to be necessary.  
"Come on!" She shouted, and grabbed Barley's arm, pulling her toward the ladder.

The shepherds started to retreat at Liz's call, abandoning the room to the torrent of soldier.

• • •

They all clambered to the roof, for all the good that would do them. Rick turning around and launched a gust of air down the trapdoor, blasting the Plegian soldiers following them to the ground in a stream of bodies and native expletives, then threw the ladder down after them.

That would at least buy them another few minutes.

"We're still stuck." The boy with the pot said uneasily.

Barely payed him no attention, she was already pulling a twist of parachute cord from her bag and tying it around one of the battlements. He saw what she was about and took over, lashing it down with surprising speed before tossing the bundle of rope to the ground.

Mary was the first down, wrapping her hands in a handkerchief before she went.

"You next." Barley said nodding at Liz. Liz nodded back and slid over the edge.

"Now you." She added, pointing to the boy with the pot. He tipped his headgear at her politely.

"The names Donny, Ma'am." He answered, before quickly clambering down.

"And I'm Rick!" The other boy followed up, before just jumping right off the tower.

Barley looked slightly incredulous, chasing after him to see him brace his fall with a blast of 'Elwind' before landing on the ground in a heap.

Once she was sure everyone else was safe, Barley started her own descent, but only made it about halfway down before she saw Plegian soldiers at the battlements. They looked around for a moment confused, before one of them happened to look over the edge. He shouted and threw his javelin at the people below. Barley called a warning before pressing against the wall, narrowly avoiding the blow herself, then cut the rope.

She landed hard, and badly. She would have been fine if her injured leg hadn't given way, but it did.

Barley let out a groan of pain as fresh blood began to blossom across her cloths. She was vaguely aware of Liz shouting in her ear.

"Barley! What was that?!"

"They can't follow now, just go." Answered Barley, staggering to her feet.

The whole group started to run for the cart, Though Barley's injury kept them from going full speed. Behind them, the grind of the gate started again. Barley looked back to see a single man slip below the bars.

It was the Gangrel. He walked forward with long deliberate steps, apparently in no rush. With an idle swing of his jagged sword, he sent a bolt of lightning arcing into their midst.

Liz wedged herself under Barley's shoulder, pulling her along as best as she could as the lightning tore up the landscape around them. Everyone else sprinted ahead, attempting to reach the cover of the cart. The king saw what they were about and raised his sword again, sending a bolt shooting over their heads. In an instant, the cart was reduced to a smoking pile of debris.

They could hear Gangrel laughing behind them as they stood in shock and panic. He threw another volley of bolts in their direction, apparently not even bothering to aim.

Mary ran to the wreckage of the cart, and tried to disentangle her frantic horse from the smoldering remains before he injured himself. As soon as he was free she climbed onto his back.

"This way!" she shouted, swinging her staff towards the mountain, then rode forward, leading the way. Gangrel started to pepper them with lightning in earnest again, as he realized that they still held a chance of eluding him. He gave a shout, and troops began to flood out of the gate, rushing past the king in a torrent.

Liz gasped under Barley's weight as she continued to drag her forward, then squealed as a bolt exploded inches in front of them.

"I need to deal with that now, Barley." she stressed.

"O-okay." Barley choked through her teeth.

Liz readjusted her grip on her staff and a soft blue bubble manifest itself at the tip. Barley felt the energy course through her system, a burning tingling sensation running across her leg. But then it was gone, and so was every bit of pain.

She grabbed hold of Liz as soon as she could stand properly again, and charged forward, eating away the ground the others had put between them.

"Over here!" called Donny from a cleft of the canyon. Barley dove after him into the thick underbrush.

• • •

They ran for a long time after that. The sounds of their pursuers had been long left behind, but they ran anyways.  
"I-I think we're safe." Liz finally said.

She sunk down on the side of the path, breathing heavily. The rest of the group followed her example, collapsing like dead things in an exhausted, nerve-shot pile. Everything was quiet around them. The only sounds were a few birds, and a bit of wind rattling through brush. Slowly the mad panic started to melt away, leaving them feeling empty and exhausted.

"We shouldn't stop for long," Said Liz, pushing herself up after a moment. "The Capitol is a long ways away on foot."  
Rick groaned.  
"Come along everyone." Said Mary, mounting her horse again. Everyone slowly began pushing themselves to their feet.

Mary directed her mount close to the princess.  
"Liz darling, are you alright?" She asked quietly.  
"Yeah, I'm okay." Answered liz, though it wasn't terribly convincing.

The rest of the afternoon was spent clambering through bushes, and jumping over rocks. They hiked along wearily, Liz leading the way, Barley walking next to her. Mary road back and forth on her horse, parallel to group, generally keeping an eye on things. They were well onto Ylissen territory now, and the chances of their being followed dwindled with every mile they walked, But that didn't stop them from jumping at every snap of a twig or tumble of a rock. They soon found they had another problem to worry about. Losing the trail. As the day wore on, they found themselves having to backtrack again and again. This place was obviously seldom traveled by anyone, and in many places was hardly more than a deer path. All in all, they were a sorry lot by evening.

It was already getting dark by the time Liz lead the group off the path.  
A bit of unpleasant bushwhacking later, they found themselves at the entrance of a decent sized cave.

"This is where we can spend the night." Said Liz. Nobody argued.

Just inside the entrance of the cave, they found a neat stack of firewood, and after a bit of poking around the interior, Donny managed to put his foot into an ash filled fire pit. Soon Rick had a nice little blaze going.

A few rolls of much needed supplies were found stashed at the back of the cave; which were broken into immediately, and split among the group. Everyone scraped together the best meal they could of what was readily consumable, as no one felt particularly up to cooking at the moment. Lots were drawn for the watch soon after, and it fell to Mary. The rest of the group dispersed through the cave, looking for the least uncomfortable spots to try and get some rest.

Barley settled herself against the wall. This was a cave, there was no such thing as comfortable. Best just pick a spot. Liz circled around for awhile, then apparently gave up and came over next to Barley.  
"I assume you guys set this place up?" Barley asked her as she sat down.  
"Yeah." Answered Liz, sounding tired. "The shepherds keep a couple of places like this stashed in case of emergencies."  
Barley nodded. This definitely qualified.

Liz rested her head on her knees and sighed.  
"You okay?"  
"Yeah..." Answered Liz.  
Barley looked at her keenly. She was hunched in a sorry little ball, even her pigtails seemed to be drooping.  
"You're not looking very okay."  
Liz sighed again.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the odd shadows tossed up by the fire.  
"You know that wasn't your fault right?" Said Barley finally.  
"What do you mean?" Asked Liz.  
"At the fort. That mess wasn't your fault."  
Liz didn't answer, and she didn't look convinced, just sort of sunk into the floor.  
"Gangrel was baiting you from the start of the conversation, and he drew you into something you both knew was above your ability to handle. He thought he could get the upper hand because you were less experienced than him. You proved him wrong, so he went to other methods."  
"I guess."

"He never was interested in that treaty, Liz." Said Barley firmly. "If he truly was, he never would have thrown it back in your face like that. Especially not so easily. It would have happened anyways. If not to you, than to your brother. You didn't do anything wrong, so stop beating yourself up over it."  
Liz still didn't say anything.  
It was Barley's turn to sigh. She reached over and rubbed Liz's shoulder gently. Liz smiled a little.

"Thanks Barley." She said. "And, thanks for coming along. We would have been in real trouble back there without you."  
"We still have a long way to go still. Don't thank me just yet." Said Barley.  
"But we might not have even made it out of the fort without your help."  
"You would have found a way."  
"Maybe..." Said Liz, though she didn't sound so sure.

Silence reigned over the pair again. Liz didn't seem to have much to say for once, and something seemed to be bothering Barley all of a sudden.  
"Liz?" She asked.  
"Yeah?"  
"If I wouldn't have been there, would you have let them take you to that room alone?"  
Liz seemed thoroughly unsettled by the question. She didn't answer.  
Eventually, Liz got up and crawled into the little pallet she had made herself, leaving Barley alone against the wall. Barley unrolled her own sleeping bag and crawled inside, taking her old clothes with her. The Ylissen garb she had bought was all but destroyed by now. So much for that. The ground wasn't particularly comfortable, but it didn't matter. She fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Notes:

If you have ready this far, thank you kindly. It means a lot to see all the reads this nonsense gets. So... I guess, if its not to much trouble to those so inclined, reviews would always be helpful for improvement as we continue to build this wonderful disaster of a story. I hope you all continue to enjoy it.~


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

Somewhere halfway across the country, Chris continued to bump up and down on a cart.

The air had been growing steadily colder with the distance and altitude, and his hood had gone up quite a while ago. He had also set down his book, as the temperature made it uncomfortable to hold. Not that it would have done him much good anyways; the last of the light was fast disappearing behind the mountains.

The approach of evening had stirred up several much more pressing problems. Whether or not they would be able to make the border before nightfall was a question that had been circulating since early in the trip; that question had come back with a vengeance. It wasn't a cheery prospect, traveling a fast icing road in the dark, but it was turning out to be a very likely one. It was not having a good effect on everyone's mood.

"You do like to cut things close around here." Said Virion off handedly.

Chris looked back at the archer leaning comfortably against the side of the cart. He was the only one who seemed untouched by the situation. It was kind of irksome truth be told.  
"That's not their fault." Said Chris, a little testily.  
"Of course, of course, I saw the reason for the delay first hand. I dare say a pack of resin devastating your port is about as good an excuse as it's possible to get these days, but just try telling that to your Plegian representative."

Chris didn't respond, so Verion kept talking.  
"I do hope we don't end up too late. Hardly a good way to open such a delicate matter as this. It could very easily be taken as incompetence, potentially even indifference."  
Chris sighed, he didn't need Verion to point these things out for him. They had only been tumbling around in his head for the last several hours.  
"Well we're not late yet."  
"That's true enough," said Verion, holding viciously to his precious last word. Chris let him have it. He found debating with the archer exhausting at times, and he would rather let the conversation lie where it was tonight.

He let his eyes drift across the landscape. The mountains were looming much larger now, he could see ice and snow caked in their every crevice; yet another reminder of the kind of weather they were headed for. The thick mat of clouds just visible behind the peaks were being splashed with an array of pink and exotic blues, it was the last bit of light they were likely to get out of this day. A few early stars were starting to peek out in the empty expanse directly above them. Chris's eyes continued to drift until they met the coldest thing they had seen all day, Frederick's face.

Chrom was there as well, riding abreast his chief knight. He looked a little care worn, and truth be told, a little chilly in his sleeveless shirt, but generally in good spirits. Frederick on the other hand, looked like he had swallowed a quart of sour milk, in addition to his usual lemon. Chris sat up at attention, ready for the orders that were so obviously forthcoming. Chrom was the one who spoke, much to his relief.

"If nothing goes wrong, we should reach the border of Ferox in a little over an hour. Since we're cutting this so close, as soon as we arrive I'll have to make my way straight to the negotiations, or we'll be late. I'll be taking a small group with me obviously, and as our tactician, I want you to be a part of it."  
Chris nodded. "Of course."  
"Just make sure to be ready." Said Chrom. "We're going to be making this by the skin of our teeth. If we make it at all."  
"I'll make sure to be ready."  
Chrom gave an appreciative nod.

The conversation would probably have gone on longer, but it was interrupted by a commotion further up the line; it sounded like one of the horses were acting up again. Chrom and Frederick road forward to sort out the situation.  
Chris sighed again. He hoped Liz's expedition was going better than theirs was.

Nobody had a particularly accurate way to tell the time, but it definitely more than an hour before the border fort came into sight. The group picked up it's pace, gaining back a little pluck with their destination in sight. They didn't make it far though.

"Halt!" Shouted a rough woman's voice. Chrom signaled to the rest of the caravan to follow the order and looked around for who had addressed them.  
"Who are you, and what is your business?" Shouted the woman.  
A few feet away, between them and fort, stood a body of guards; the woman who had addressed them seemed to be its leader. It was hard to tell how many there were with the lack of light, but it seemed to be a decent size, and very well armed if clanking of metal was any indication. But they were definitely Feroxian, or, at least, their leader was. Her accent portrayed it plainly.

Chrom walked his horse forward slowly to meet the group, Frederick grudgingly following. The force lowered a thicket of spears at them as the approached, causing the two men's mounts to knicker and back step uneasily.  
"That's far enough stranger, now answer the question. I'm getting tired of waiting."  
"We're the Ylissen embassy." Said Chrom, not faltering. "We're expected by the Khans."  
"Is that so?" She said, not sounding very convinced. "And who are you supposed to be?"  
"Prince Chrom, here to lead the negotiations."  
The woman didn't reply, just turned to one of her men.  
"Torch." She said simply, and was passed one immediately.

She raised it high, to better see the men in front of her and looked them both over, her eyes resting on the mark of the exalt on Chrom's shoulder.

"Very well then." She said finally, a bit of the edge falling out of her tone. "My men and I will escort you to the stables so you can tend to your steeds." She turned around and marched toward the fort, not waiting for a response. Chrom and Frederick signaled the rest of the group and trotted their horses after her. The tense breath the shepherds had been holding was slowly released as the caravan started rolling forward again.

The group cleared out of the stables as quickly as possible, mostly leaving the care of the mounts to the available stablemen. Anything that was deemed unneeded was just left on the carts. Chris was the last off, making sure that the rest of the Shepherds were properly accounted for. Giving one last look over all of their things, he turned to follow them into the fort. He debated a moment grabbing one of his tomes, but decided against it; he wouldn't need anything, likely, and coming in to a diplomatic meeting heavily armed could give the wrong impression.

The building's official title was the Longfort, which, as it turned out, was very appropriate. The length of the main hall was bordering the ridiculous; it stretched away almost out of sight, something that was emphasized all the more by its comparatively shallow width. The ceiling brought it all together though; arching dramatically overhead, held up by massive, roughly hewn oaken pillars and curved rib-like rafters. Despite its impressive dimensions, the hall was rather bare. Cobbled together benches and a few racks of weapons were the only furniture that could be seen; a few rugs, or more accurately, animal pelts, were strewn over the plain stone floor. Every so often there were bronze ringed fire pits, all of which were blazing brightly. Around these were gathered a few knots of Feroxian soldiers.  
"You will be pleased to know that the Plegian force is already here." Said the woman, leading the group up to one of these bonfires. "I've already sent someone to notify them of your arrival. The Khans will be informed as well, and will be present at the negotiations as mediators, as agreed on beforehand. Your meeting should be underway shortly."  
"Ylisse is indebted to you for your help in this matter." Said Frederick.  
"There is however, one more matter that needs attending to before the negotiations can take place." Continued the woman.  
"What would that be, my lady?"  
"It's customary for anyone who enters Ferox to be tried in combat; it's unnecessary for you all to participate, but the prince, and any others he intends to bring with him to the meeting will need to follow me."

Frederick was taken aback. Whatever he had been expecting, that was not it.  
"You would subject your guests to such a right?" He asked, somewhat incredulously.  
"It's been a tradition here for generations," was the simple reply.  
Frederick looked at Chrom.  
"I was aware of this custom," said Chrom, "But I didn't think it would apply in this situation."  
"It's especially applicable in this situation. We like to know to what sort of people we're giving our aid before we give it."

Chrom didn't respond.

"The Plegians have already been through this right, and participated willingly. I don't see why the prince of the Ylisse should be more hesitant than they at an opportunity to show his skill. Unless your royals don't bother learning to fight." She added, her face twisting into the tiniest of sneers.

That settled the matter.  
"Frederick, Chris, Stahl, Miriel, with me." said Chrom, turning away from the woman. "The rest of you make yourselves comfortable, this could take a while."  
"This way your highness." Said the woman, and walked away again.  
Chrom marched after her, his handful of chosen troops falling in behind.

• • •

The arena was built near the center of the fort, a circular depression in the floor, surrounded by walls on all sides. The coat of arms for the east and west Khans fluttered from the ceiling, overshadowed by a huge tapestry displaying the symbol of Ferox. Above the arena was an area where spectators could watch the battle below; onto this viewing deck the small group of Shepherds was escorted. As Chrom entered the room, he noticed a massive, thick set man leaning over the balcony. He recognized him immediately as Khan Bassilo.

The Khan had apparently seen them too, standing up and stepped forward to meet them. The woman who had been leading them gave a bow as he approached.  
"Well, it looks like the Ylissen's whelps have finally showed up." He boomed good naturedly.  
"High Khan Bassilo." Said Chrom, nodding his head respectfully.  
"Not anymore lad." The Khan said "Lost that title a few weeks ago; Flavia's the head honcho now."  
"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. She deserved it."  
"You will be attending the battle?" Asked Frederick.  
"No, I'm just here make sure things don't get out of hand down there. And, of course, to enjoy the show." He turned to his captain. "How bout you head round and tell the boys that the Ylissens are ready for them, Raimi?"

She saluted and marched away.

"This is lining up to be an interesting fight." He said, looking down into the arena again.  
"How so?" Asked Chrom, joining him at the edge, observing the terrain he would be fighting on. There was a grinding as the arena's iron doors swung open, and a few Feroxian soldiers marched onto the field.  
"See that boy there?" Said Bassillo, pointing to the person at the head of the group. "That's Flavia's champion. Real talented kid; one of the best I've seen; he bested my chief warrior and won her her shiny new title. And from my understanding, he asked to try you out personally."  
"Really?" Said Chrom, looking down at him. Somehow, the challenger seemed familiar.

"Looks like you'd better head down there." Said Bassilo.  
Chrom stood up to go.  
"Oh, and one last thing," said the Khan. "We're not barbarians or anything up here; these contests aren't meant to be to the death. Don't make me come down there and break anything up."  
Chrom nodded. "Of course not."  
"Good Lad," He said, slapping Chrom on the back with staggering force. "Good luck to you. You'll need it."

Chrom made his way down into the arena. The rest of his chosen group had already been ushered in, and he took his place at their head.

They stood for a moment, sizing up their opponents. It was an even fight, five on five.

Chrom advanced towards the center of the arena, their opponents did the same. The two leaders approached each other, confirming Chrom's suspicion. Flavia's champion was the young man who had helped him once near the start of the risen outbreaks.

"You know, I never did get your name." Chrom said, eyeing his opponent warily.

He simply stared back, or at least Chrom figured he was staring back. His expression was cold and unreadable as ever behind that mask.

"No-"

"You may call me Marth." he said, cutting him off suddenly.

Chrom raised an eyebrow.

"Marth? As in the hero king of old? The unifier of Archenea and founder of Ylisse?" Whoever had named this poor child had clearly had high hopes. Bearing the name of the hero king was asking for a lot.

"Will you girls fight already?" Bassilo shouted down from the stands.

Chrom nodded, though it wasn't really an expression the Khan would be able to catch. Drawing the Falchion, he dropped into a battle stance. He could feel his friend's presence behind him, ready to jump forward into combat as soon he made the first move. Marth drew a long sword of his own, poising himself to strike.

Marth lashed out with lightning speed, but Chrom was able to sidestep the blow with relative ease, and blocked the rising follow up with experienced smoothness. The rest of the Shepherds charged forward, each choosing a dueling partner.

Staul, robbed of his horse, was fighting a bit clumsily against a Feroxian myrmidon, though still in his relatively heavier armor, he was holding a reasonable advantage against the myrmidon's lighter, faster weapon. Frederick had placed himself squarely in the path of the opponent's berserker, driving the unwieldy fellow away from the group where his wide, heavy axe strokes couldn't do the others any harm. Chris had taken it upon himself to fight off the heavier swordsman of the group.

Without his tomes, this was the first time Chrom had actually seen Chris fight with his sword; and from what he could catch between countering Marth's attacks, the deftness with which he handled the weapon surprised him. Mirial had put herself in the back line, focusing on keeping the enemy mage in a position where he couldn't disrupt the other fights, while making her own attempts to aid Chris, Stahl, and Frederick as much as possible, harassing their opponents with torrents of wind and cutting off escapes with blasts of fire. Chrom and Marth's battle was too fast paced for her to interfere without the risk of friendly fire, so she opted to leave her liege to deal with his opponent personally.

Chrom's battle was making no significant headway; after a fairly short time, the others managed to start gaining ground against their opponents, but Marth was able to block and counter every move he made. It was surprising, actually, as his attacks very were easy to read; if not wild swings and thrusts, his tactics were rudimentary, and in tradition Ylissen style, something Chrom was very familiar with. For being Flavia's champion, he didn't seem very well practiced. But for all the ease with which Chrom countered his offense, Marth countered his just as well, if not better. He could read him like a book, almost as if he already knew all of his choice attacks; but there was no way that could be possible.

Chrom dodged another wide blow, batting the swing even further away in counter, completely setting off his opponents' footing. Before Marth could regain his balance, Chrom tried something a little more unconventional. Rushing in, he slammed into Marth full on with his shoulder; causing him to give a high pitched yelp and stumble backwards. Pressing his advantage, Chrom grabbed the hilt of Marth's sword, swinging him around into a choke hold. He squeezed down on his wrist, bringing forth another yelp as his sword fell from his grip.

"I accept your surrender." Said Chrom, rather jokingly; he was enjoying a good natured fight, and was coming around to an understanding as to why the Feroxians had such a tradition. Marth didn't seem to be sharing his sentiment. He hissed through clenched teeth. In a single movement he twisted out of Chrom's grasp and lashed out with a small dagger.

Chrom kicked himself for not noticing the second weapon sooner. He took a frantic backstep away; the short blade tearing through his cape as it fell just shy. The fabric snagged and he stumbled, missing yet another vicious attack by inches. Without the weight of a long sword to compensate for, Marth's attacks became far more accurate and focused; Chrom didn't even have an opportunity to counter attack, having to focus on dodging again and again.

The enemy mage picked up quickly on Chrom's situation. Pulling away from Mirial, he took a moment to whip up a particularly powerful wind spell just for the occasion. Mirial realized what he was doing and moved quickly to close his window of opening, only for the mage to turn and release the spell on her. Mirial threw up her arms against the gust as it tore into her; she managed to keep her footing, but was spun back a fair distance, her glasses being blasted off in the process.

The mage allowed himself a satisfied smirk; switched tomes from wind to fire, and let fly at Chrom.

Miril scrambled frantically across the stones for her glasses, completely at a loss to where they had fallen. She clutched her fire tome ferociously in the other hand, letting loose erratic sweeping blasts, trying to fend off any who may try to take advantage of her near helpless state. Chris's swordsman was taking a keen interest in this turn of events. He pulled a faint then tried to slip around the tactician's reach, but Chris was having none of it.

Frederick took one look at the situation and put an end to his encounter with the berserker. With a burning glare in his eyes, he rounded on the axe man, dispatching him instantly with a blow from the blunt of his spear. It was a blow the man wasn't soon to forget. His old opponent nullified, Frederick charged down the enemy mage like an angry bear. The mage whipped around and hurled another fire ball in his direction, but blanched as it dissipated harmlessly against his armor. The man ran for his life.

"Mirial, tome!" Chris yelled to the de-spectacled mage, struggling to break the sword lock he was stuck in with his own opponent.  
"Acknowledged." She answered curtly.

Still hurling flames from one hand, she reached into her bag and produced a little light green tome.

Putting all his energy into a shove, Chris pushed the mercenary back, gaining just enough time to snag the tome before the man came at him again. There was a split second of realization on his face as he saw the tome, before a blast of wind threw him right off his feet.

"Chrom! Switch partners!" Chris called out.  
"You don't have a partner!" Chrom called back, darting a glance at Chris's swordsman, still groaning on the floor.

"Fine, pair up!" Shouted Chris, rushing forward.

Marth had since reclaimed his longsword, wielding it alongside his dagger, and was still keeping Chrom on his toes with a barrage of rigorously renewed attacks. Chris threw another gust of wind, Marth raising her shorter weapon to counter, the magical blast breaking harmlessly against it. Chris grunted in annoyance and threw one more wind spell for good measure. Without missing a beat, and without messing up the flow of his attack, Marth dispelled it as well.

"Fine, we'll do it your way." Said Chris, tucking the tome away in one of his robe's inner pockets. He drew his short sword and dashed into Chrom's duel. As the two recoiled back from a particularly strong exchange of blows, Chris capitalized on the moment, following up Chrom's attack with a veracious second strike. Marth was unable to react in time, his sword too heavy to properly swing back to block. Dripping his long sword, Marth swung up his dagger again, catching Chris's blade in an empty circle of it's cross-guard. He jerked the dagger harshly, Chris managed to keep a hold on his sword, but stumbled forward badly. There was a loud crack a Marth slapped him across the face.

That made him drop his sword, stepping back in pure disbelief. He looked back at Marth, who had frozen, shaking with what seemed to be just as much shock as him; it was hard to tell behind his mask. The hesitation quickly left him though, as Chrom stepped forward again. Weaving around his swings, Marth managed to pick up his sword, holding it above his head to deflect a broadsided overhead swing from Chrom.  
"Can we call this game yet? You're good and all, but this is not getting us anywhere." Chrom panted, clearly getting tired of his runaround.

Marth didn't answer, just held Chrom's blow.

There was a roar from the other end of the room. Apparently the Feroxion mage had been keeping an electric tome somewhere in his robes, and had just given Frederick a taste of it. With seconds to spare, the man raised the fire tome still in his other hand and blasted again at Chrom. The prince saw the attack, but there was fairly little he could do, still tangled up with Marth.

"Move!" shouted Chris, trying to slam Chrom out of the way. He wasn't fast enough, taking the flaming blast squarely in the back.

Chris hit the floor with a thunk, flailing around in a mad panic as he tried to strip off his cloak, flames fast engulfing the fabric. With the mage off put by the damage his blow had caused, Stahl easily tackled him to the ground. Marth seemed shocked as well, Chrom was back to his feet quickly though, mimicking Stual's movement and throwing himself full body at Marth. All the weapons went clattering to the ground as the two landed hard. The weight of the blow, and Chrom's significantly greater body mass flattened Marth nicely, completely knocking his wind away, with a choked groan.

Chris got back to his feet first, disrobed and slightly dazed. "Stahl?" He asked.

The cavalier regained his own balance, if only barely, stumbling around a bit. His armor was heavy with nicks and scratches, but a quick look around revealed his own defeated opponent in the corner of the arena. He simply gave Chris a thumbs-up before sitting himself down in exhaustion.

Chrom got up next, giving a self satisfied, if rather tired noise. Looking around, the arena was littered with various levels of beaten people. Now that the battle was over, a few Feroxian Healers marched into the field, mopping up whatever minor damage which had been dealt to either side.

Chrom offered a hand to his beaten opponent; Marth took it and hauled himself back up to his feet. The two stared at eachother for a moment, before Marth scraped together his weapons and bolted.  
"Hold on a minute!" Called Chrom, following after him. The man faltered for a split second, he even looked like he was about to speak, then without warning, he broke into a full sprint.  
Chrom stood there for half a second, completely befuddled.  
"Wait!" He shouted as soon as he had processed what had happened, and sprinted after him.

The man tore out of the arena, blowing past a thoroughly surprised looking Raimi and disappeared into the halls. Chrom did his best to follow, listening to Marth's running steps when he could no longer see him. But soon even that was lost in the maze of passages. Chrom came to a stop, looking around him at the doors on all sides. Marth was gone, and he had no idea where he was. He didn't even have the slightest idea of where to go.

"Hold up there lad!" Shouted Bassilo from behind him, much to his relief. Chrom turned to face the Khan as he marched up the hall, a string of rather confused looking Shepherds trailing behind him.  
"I think you're forgetting about your meeting."  
That was right. The meeting. Chrom mentally kicked himself.

"What was that display all about anyways? I never saw the lad act like that before."

"I have no idea." Said Chrom. "He did the same thing last time I met him."  
Basillo seemed genuinely surprised.  
"You've met the boy before? When?"  
"A few weeks ago. He fought beside us against a risen ambush, but disappeared instantly after the battle."  
"Well, he must be good at getting around then. I'd actually like to hear the end of that one. But don't worry about that now; he's still skulking around here somewhere; you have plenty of time to corner him before you head out. Now let's get a move on before your Plegians get impatient."  
"Yes, you're right." Said Chrom, kicking himself again for appearing so unprofessional. He needed to get a hold of himself; this was too important to foul up.

• • •

Bassilo turned the group around and lead them down another spiderweb of halls. Soon they found themselves in front of a large set of double doors flanked by guards.  
"Here are the Ylissens." thundered Basillo.

All the guards jumped. They were obviously not expecting such volume at close quarters.  
"Well come on then, open the door."  
The poor guards did, and Bassiol stomped inside, leading the group.

The room didn't look much different from the hall they had just left. Long, high ceilinged, lots of stone. The only distinguishing feature was an oval table parked in more or less the center of the room. There were already a few people seated around it. The other Khan was there, tapping her foot gently, and one Feroxian sitting on her left. The rest were obviously Plegians. There were seven of them, all decked in traditional Plegian garb. The elegance of their dress stood a shocking contrast to the plainly dressed Ylissens (relatively speaking of course.)

"Well about time." Said Flavia as they entered the room. Chrom flinched internally. That was not how he wanted this to open.  
"I apologize."  
"It's quite alright," said one of the Plegians, apparently the leader of the group. His garb was the most elegant thing in the room, bright, luxurious and formal. The man himself was tall and slender, suiting his outfit well.  
"They could hardly be expected to know about your right of passage." He said, directing these words to Flavia. It was said in the most polite way possible, but somehow, the statement grated. Something about the way his lip twisted when he talked, or his thick, oily tones. The Plegian offered his hand to Chrom, and Chrom took it firmly, not know what else to do.  
"Shall we begin?" He asked all parties.  
"Yeah, get on with it." Said Bassilo, sitting heavily in the chair on the other side of Flavia.  
"Let's get going." Agreed Flavia.

Everyone took their seats around the table, the chief Plegian and Chrom taking seats directly opposite each other. Chris sat down carefully on Chrom's left; he didn't care for how this was opening out. The opposite party seemed friendly enough, but every word that was said seemed to be an attempt to one up Chrom. It wasn't distinct enough to call him out on, and that was the concerning part. The man was obviously well versed in this game. Chris hoped Chrom was noticing the pattern. Caution was needed here.

"I do appreciate your having the courtesy to meet us here personally." Opened the man.  
"Especially in light of the difficulties your country has been facing of late."  
"This treaty if very important to us." Said Chrom. "We, the exalt, didn't want to leave it in the hands of a mediator, no matter how accomplished."  
"Very admirable." Said the man, tweaking Chrom's temper again. The man shifted in his seat and steepled his hand on the table sagely.  
"Though I should make it known at the start that the terms of the negotiations have changed somewhat."  
"What do you mean?"

"Some news was sent me from Plegia late this afternoon, the nature of which has drastically altered the terms of this discussion. The events which transpired have brought about a significant change in Plegia's opinion of the treaty, making it impossible for a decision concerning it to be reached at this table."

Chrom rubbed the bridge of his nose. He didn't know why he was surprised by this. Things being as straightforward as all that was too good to be true.  
"Then why are we we all sitting here?" He asked, doing a less than fair job at capping his frustration.  
"Because another matter has come up. One that you will likely find more important then the previous subject."

Chrom waited for him to continue. He was not going to let this man drag him along. It was worth a few delays to deny him that satisfaction. The Khans however, obviously did not feel the same way.  
"Out with it man!" Thundered Bassilo, in utter impatience. The man jumped, all his oily composure flying out the window. Then he was back, situating himself ill-temperedly in his chair. A twist of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he prepared his next statement. It was a nasty thing.  
"Negotiation for the release of your young princess." He said, bordering on the smug.

As it turned out, this did not produce the victory the man had been hoping for.  
Chrom was over that table so fast he didn't even have time to flinch. He was hauled out of his chair and pinned against the wall in a matter of seconds.  
"What have you done with my sister?" Chrom snarled, inches away from the Plegian's nose. "I swear, if you've hurt one hair on her head I'll-"

"Enough!" Said Flavia, standing up. Her guard jumped up and firmly put his hand on Chrom's shoulder. Chrom released the man slowly, and he crumpled to the floor. He let the guard lead him back to his seat, teeth and fists clenched. The Plegian pushed himself up slowly, airs completely washed away at the prospect of actual physical harm. He seemed hesitant to continue, and even more hesitant to return to his seat. He picked up courage though, when he saw that the Feroxian guard had stationed himself behind the prince's chair.

"Plegia is perfectly willing to make a trade." He started slowly.  
"What do you want?" Spat Chrom, through clenched teeth. When nothing else happened, the Plegian started to pick up confidence again.  
"A simple exchange." He said, superiority trickling back into his speech. "In exchange for the release of princess Elizabeth, Plegia requires you turn over the crest of Ylisse. The Fire Emblem."  
"Are you insane?" Seethed Chrom.  
"Unfortunately, the point is un-negotiable. King Gangrel himself has declared that as the price for your sister's freedom. I advise you weigh which is more important to you."

The Shepherds all looked like they were about to fly out of their seats by this time; tension was so thick in the air it was almost enough to choke someone. If looks could kill, every single Plegian in the room would be dead by now. Flavia was picking up on the danger; there was no way this situation could stay peaceful for much longer.  
"Alright," She said, loud and commanding. "Everyone shut up. This meeting is over; Prince Chrom, please take your men and leave the room."  
Chrom didn't need to be asked twice. He whipped around and marched through the door, followed closely by the rest of the Shepherds.

* * *

Notes:

Sorry, I have no notes today.

Okay, I lied, I do have some notes for you.

You may or may not have noticed that in this chapter, Lucina/Marth does not wield Falchion. If so, you would be half correct. You know that dagger with the hole in the hilt? Well that's what's left of the future's sacred sword.

Thinking about it, Falchion is the only thing that can seal away Grima, and Grima would have to be pretty thick to not remember that. He's only has the last few hundred years to stew over it after all. So what's the first thing he's going to do when he gets out?  
Destroy Falchion.

This is definitely something that's going to come up again, at which point I will share more details; what kind of story teller would I be if I spilled all the beans at once? I will say though, that if things pan out how they look like they will, this will stir up some rather interesting plot ramifications. It will be wonderful.

As usual, thanks for reading. Cheers~


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

Chrom had no interest in waiting around for another meeting; he stormed through the fort, blind to everything and everyone as he made his way back to the hall where the rest of the Shepherds were waiting. He kicked himself over and over again for letting Liz go on that mission. Why had he had let Liz go on that mission? And he had let her go without a single one of their fighters; he should have sent Frederick with her, or Mirial, or even Vake. Anyone who could have defended her.

"What is our plan of action my lord?" Asked Frederick, drawing him to the present again.  
"We tell the Shepherds what's happened, and go back to the Ylisse. Then we get Liz back, by any means necessary."  
Frederick nodded.  
"I hope everyone is okay..." Said Chris.  
"Hopefully the others were considered valuable enough to spare." Said Miriel, managing to cast everyone into even darker spirits than before. "Who exactly accompanied the princess to the border?"  
"Maribelle, and both of the new boys." answered Chrom.  
Mirial looked shocked.

Chrom took a shuddering breath, struggling to control his temper.  
"Barley was there as well." added Chris quietly.

Frederick stopped so suddenly Miriel nearly walked into him.  
"What?" He said, rounding on Chris.  
Chris all of a sudden felt rather short.  
"I saw Barley with the group on the road when they passed us. She was sitting on the back of the cart."  
"Then why didn't you say something?"  
"I didn't think it was worth mentioning. I assumed Chrom knew."

Frederick closed his eyes, took a deep breath and held it.  
"Chrom," he said, turning to the prince. "I request permission to depart immediately for Ylisse. It will take a fair amount of time to rally the Shepherds and move the carts; I can make the capitol by dawn if I leave immediately, and brief the exalt before your arrival"

Chrom hesitated. Frederick was an invaluable man to have at his side during times like this. He would be sorely missed while moving their caravan through the night, but he had a point. Emmeryn would need to gather the counsel, which always took longer then Chrom would ever understand, and that was time they just couldn't afford to waste.  
"Very well."

Frederick bowed, and marched down a different corridor, headed straight for the stables to retrieve his horse. Chrom and the rest of the group continued on their way to the great hall. All except Chris.

Throughout the whole of their conversation, Chris had suspected that they were being watched. A movement had caught his eye early on, and by this time he was fairly certain there was someone hiding in the shadow of one of the doorways. As the group moved off, he discreetly slipped into a shadow himself, and waited. Sure enough, once the sound of footsteps had died away, a figure slipped into the hall; Chris was fairly surprised to see the boy they had fought in the arena.

Marth looked up and down the hall; it appeared to be empty. Satisfied, he walked briskly away down another corridor. Chris abandoned his hiding place and silently slipped after him.

• • •

Meanwhile, Chrom walked back towards the main hall of the Longfort, his strides long and heavy. The rest of the Shepherds were standing about at the tables surrounding a firepit, right where he had left them. They saw him long before he reached them, and apparently his gate alone was enough to queue them in that something was wrong.

They stood to attention as he approached, tension passing over their expressions in a wave. Chrom stopped among them, but didn't speak, he took a few moments to just breath, trying to steady his nerves enough to give a coherent briefing.

"I-is everything ok, captain? The meeting didn't last very long..." Sumia asked, finally breaking the silence that had struck since his arrival. Chrom didn't answer, just took another long deep breath through his nose.

"There wasn't much to be said." he finally answered. "The ambassador was only here to share … new information. Peace is not an option anymore, they have made this very clear to me."

"Well, what happened?" Sully asked loudly.

"The Plegians have Liz. King Gangrel, he is demanding the Fire Emblem in exchange for her return. I don't know what's become of the others in her company."

The whole group erupted into chaos, shouting in outrage at Plegia's audacity. The company  
only quieting at the even louder noise of Vaike slamming his fist into the table. "Alright then!" he boomed, ""What are we doing standing around here?! My blood is boiling for a fight! If it's a war they want, ol' teach is going to show them how it's done! We'll show then not to mess with Ylisse royals!"

There was a cheer of agreement from the group, Chrom included. This was taking things too far, and now Plegia would reap their reward.

"Bravo, bravo." Another voice said, giving a slow clap. It was Bassilo.

He seemed much more serious than he had been; there was a dark glint in his eye, and there were two guards standing behind him; one was Raimi, the other was a swordsman they didn't recognize.  
"Kahn Basillo? What are you doing here?" Chrom asked. The Khan gave a mischievous smile.

"You lot heading out?"  
"Yes." Said Chrom. "I apologize for the sudden departure."  
"Not at all, I'd expect nothing less. That was a downright filthy mess, and it made my own blood boil just to hear it. I'd be disappointed if Ylisse didn't have spine enough to return the gesture."  
"You're sympathy is appreciated."  
"I came to do better than sympathy lad. As I am no longer the ruling Kahn, let's just say I have a bit more... liberty in these sorts of matters; while I can't aid you directly, there are plenty of things I can do. I've had fresh supplies provided for your journey for one, and I have a little something else for you too. This is Lon'qu," he said gesturing to the swordsman behind him. The man stepped forward and made a curt bow. "He was my champion before Flavia's man bested him. He may have been beat, but he's still one of the best fighters I have to offer. If you think you can use him, he's agreed to come with you."  
"Thank you, we need all the help we can get."  
"It's my pleasure. And to my understanding, Raimi has something for you too."

The woman stepped forward and gave a slight bow.  
"Your horses are tired from your journey here. I can offer you fresh steeds from our stables. We will attend to any horses you leave behind until you can retrieve them."

Chrom hesitated.  
"I greatly appreciate the help you both have offered us, but can you do that?"

Basillo chuckled. "Boy, I can do about anything I want to! Though I would be appreciated if you kept the thing about the horses under your hat for a while."  
"I don't know what to say. Ylisse is indebted to you."  
"Then don't say anything. Never did care for that sort of stuff anyways. Now get your little royal behind out there! It's going to be a long ride, you might want to leave soon."

Chrom nodded. He and his men were tired, but it didn't matter at this point. He needed to help his sister, his kingdom.

"All right, Shepherds! Get to your mounts! We leave as soon as possible!"

• • •

Frederick had been riding for hours, and the miles were beginning to wear on him. He was stiff and exhausted, his nose and ears were numb from the cold, and he could only just feel his fingers gripping the reigns. The horse wasn't fairing much better; it had slowed to a painful trot, and downright refused to go any faster.

The grey of early morning had settled over everything, and Frederick still had hours left to travel. So much for making it to the capitol by dawn. On top of everything else, a light fog was starting to rise. Any other day it would be lovely, now all it was doing was making him wet, which was the last thing he needed.

Frederick reigned in his horse and patted its neck. As much as he hated it, he had to stop; for the horse if nothing else. The animal wouldn't make it much further being pushed like this, and it was better to stop now for a short time then have him fail before they reached the capitol.

The exhausted knight slid out of the saddle and stretched his sore legs. There was still so much farther to go, and no time for it.

He contemplated removing his and his horses armor; it was weighing them down terribly without question. Despite this, the thought of removing it did not appeal to Frederick at all. Between the bandits and the resin, there was no telling what kind of situation he could run into.

And there were other reasons too; to set aside his armor would be to set aside his identity as a knight, a prospect that he did not like at all.

Frederick waited for a while, seating himself on one of the many large stones that littered the side of the road. After a period, his mount began to calm down, talking to grazing quietly on the little grass that grew between the rocks. He seemed in a bit better condition now, good enough at least make another leg of the journey. If he could just make it to one of the outlying villages, Frederick could just borrow a fresh horse.

It was probably a good idea to start moving again under any circumstance. He risked dozing off if he stayed in one place too long. Wouldn't that be a wonderful way for Chrom to find him, fallen asleep on the side of the road.

Suddenly the horse raised his head, ears pricked. The animal shook his head uncomfortably and back-stepped, looking at the mountains to the west. Frederick stood up instantly, and caught hold of his bridal, stroking his neck, looking and listening for what had spooked him; he had had this horse too long to ignore this sort of warning. A moment later, the sound came again. It was a distant screech, a sound he recognized. The call of a wyvern.

Frederick's countenance darkened; that was very unusual. Wyvern were heat loving creatures; They never came out this early in the morning, and rarely came this far east at all, especially in the spring.

At least not of their own accord.

Frederick mounted his horse. This required looking into. If there were enemies on Ylissen soil, the Exalt needed to know, it was worth a few minute's detour to look into the situation. Frederick listened intently as he urged his horse forward. The sound seemed to have come from the canyon.

The canyon ran between the double ridge of the mountains which arched through Ylisse. It was deep, infrequently traveled; an easy place to hide, even for something as large as a wyvern. And stretching from the border of Plegia almost into Yisstol itself, it was a straight shot to the capitol.

There was a place where it intersected the road not far ahead; Frederick headed for this point. Everything had gone quiet now; the only thing he could hear was the crunching of his horse's hooves on the gravel, and a few test songs from some particularly early rising birds. He approached the entrance of the canyon cautiously, It's floor was still in deep shadow, unpenetrated by the predawn light. All seemed still inside, though despite the apparent peacefulness, his horse was still very uneasy.

It pawed uncertainly at the ground in front of him, ears still pricked, his nostrils flared at every oncoming gust of wind. Despite this, he followed Frederick's order to proceed. Horses didn't like wyvern, but he was a war horse, specifically trained for situations like this.

Frederick stuck close to the wall. If his hunch was right, he would not want to be seen. Sure enough, when he had wound his way deeper into the canyon, he saw a dark shadow combing the cliff side. Frederick froze where he was, watching it intently as it glided along the stones. There did seem to be a darker shadow on it's back…

There was a whistle, and the wyvern swerved off from the cliff, ascending into open air. That confirmed it; the beast most definitely had a rider. Looking above him, Frederick could pick out at least one other dark spots against the lightening sky. He tugged on his horse's reins slightly, urging the animal to back up. There was nothing he could do about the wyverns in the state he was in now, not when there were two of them, and the need to get back to Yisstol was even more urgent than before.

The horse was a little too happy to comply with Frederick's command. Loose stones turned under his feet, sounding like thunder in Frederick's ears. The two wyverns above him didn't change course, just continued to hang in the sky. They were too far away to pick up on such a miniscule noise, he knew that, and forced himself to be calm.

A leathery wingbeat cracked the air overhead. Frederick snapped his neck around so fast he was sure he pulled something. His horse bucked at the surprise, nearly throwing him off.

"Oy! I found 'em!" Shouted the rider of the beast, then started as he got a better look at what he was dealing with.

"You're not- What are you doing 'ere!" He spat, then shouted at the top of his voice, "E'rryone! There's a knight 'ere! A Ylissen knight!"

Frederick didn't waste a second. He got control of his horse with an expert hand, and charged at the beast, raising his lance. The wyvern let out a surprised yelp, and fluttered sideways, bashing his rider against the cliffside. Frederick didn't look back, just pointed his horse toward the exit of canyon and let him run. There were more shouts from behind him, and shrieks from the mounts. There were obviously far more troops here that he had thought.

Frederick's horse made good time at first, keeping well ahead of the growing pack of wyvern behind them. All the Plegians could do was shoot arrows, which they did enthusiastically. Frederick ducked his exposed head low, arrows clattering on the stones around him like hail. Most flew harmlessly by, and the few that did hit just bounced off his armor. But his horse was worn, and before long, he began to slow. He strained to hold his pace, he wanted to get away as much as his master did, but he was physically incapable.

Frederick could hear the leather wing beats of his pursuers closing the little gap he had built. The closest of the wyverndove at him, it's rider swing a massive axe. Frederick swerved out of the way, then buried his lance into the thigh of the beast as it careened by. It gave a piercing shriek, throwing itself sideways, tearing the still embedded lance out of Frederick's grip.

There went his weapon.

The path was looming ahead of him now, his only hope was the Plegians wouldn't dare peruse him far on the open road. Though deep down, he knew that was a fool's hope. They were already miles into Ylisse; a little more would hardly bother them.

As it turned out though, it didn't matter. Awyvern dropped out of the sky in front of him, completely shutting off his escape. Frederick's horse reared in shock, teetering dangerously; Frederick tried to keep his seat, but his armor was too heavy. It was either let go, or let the horse fall on top of him.

He let go.

The horse bolted, leaving Frederick in a pile on the ground. He scrambled to his feet, drawing the short sword at his belt. The other wyvern were landing heavily around him, hemming him in an all sides. Frederick grit his teeth.

"Well well," drawled the rider blocking the way. "If it isn't the prince's loyal curr."  
Frederick turned to face him, sword ready. The rider casually swung his axe out of the holster on his mount's side and slid out of the saddle, handing the reigns of his beast to the rider closest to him.

The man made his way slowly towards Frederick, who, Ylissen like, observed the man's countenance, measured and concise. It was a far cry from the more brutal fighting styles that dominated the Plegian archetype.

The bright red crest on his armor marked him as a commander, Frederick recognized it as the brand of such. Given his symbol of command, and the wyvern group he commanded, it narrowed his identity down to one of very few people.

"Captain Vask I presume?" asked Frederick.

The man simply sneered in reply.

"And you Frederick, royal lap dog to Ylisse's little prince. Fancy meeting you way out here.

"I demand to know what are you doing here." said Frederick, slowly, and evenly. "This is Ylissen territory."

"I don't think you're in any place to be making demands here mate; in case you haven't noticed, you're kind of surrounded."

There was a rough ripple of laughter around the ring.

Frederick lowered back, not allowing himself to appear shaken.

"What have you blackhearts done with princess Elizabeth?"

Vask raised a questioning eyebrow back.

"I still don't think you're the one to be asking the questions."

"Have you no honor?" Frederick growled.

"Honor? Honor you say. If I had no honor, you'd already be dead where you stood. No, you're here for a purpose; it's just me and you mate, your Ylissen sword, vs. my Pegian axe. Let's see if you're really as good as your prince would have everyone think."

Frederick was in no mood. Wasting no more time with this backwards conversation, he charged forward, meeting Vask's taunt with a lunge.

It was a predictable move and he knew it; Vask held up the broad side of his axe to deflect the blow like a shield, just as Frederick had predicted. Wielding the far lighter weapon, Frederick rebounded on the wervine commander, his left hand coming around to hit Vask squarely in the jaw.

Vask recoiled badly, swinging around his axe to keep Frederick away as he stumbled back.

"You try that again Freddy boy." he snarled, regaining his stance.

Frederick took him up on his offer, stabbing out with his sword in his right hand, same as before. Vask deflected the blow again as the same left strike began its course; only this time Frederick leaned into the blow, cracking his elbow against Vask's collarbone right beneath his armor.

Vask stumbled again, but was unable to back-step far enough to avoid Frederick's follow up attack, snapping his arm back taught in a downward slash. Vask's armor took the brunt of the blow, and took it badly, the metal plates warping and disjointing.

"You are good." Vask spat, putting some more distance between himself and Frederick

"To think too, I was afraid this was going to be boring."

Vask initiated the next exchange of blows, swinging his ax with practiced smoothness, despite it's size. Frederick held the advantage of weaponry, but he lacked range; his sword was able to redirect each of Vask's heavy blows. He wasn't flawless though, and already heavily exhausted from the ride from Ferox, his responses were getting slower and slower. Every time Vask nicked his armor, the entourage of wyvern surrounding them cheered raucously.

As the fight wore on, it truly began to sink home to Frederick exactly what kind of situation he was in. Separated from anyone who could find him, tired, exhausted, surrounded by mounted Plegians; even in the off chance that he managed to defeat Vask, there was no way he was leaving this in one piece.

"You're slowing down Frederick. Am I too much for you to handle? Wearing you out am I?" Vask continued to taunt.

Frederick didn't answer, his breath coming deep and ragged now. He had to end this soon; even if there was no way to escape this situation, he fully intended to finish Vask before he went.

He put all his energy into a desperate thrust, trying to outpace Vask's defense, only for it to backfire terribly.

Vask knocked the blade upwards with with the long hilt of his axe, sending his opponent reeling back. Continuing with his momentum, Vask brought the blade of the weapon down on Frederick, who only just managed to catch the blow on the flat of his sword. The stress of the impact was more than the weapon could take, and with a sharp crack, it splintered in two.

There was a roar from around the circle as Frederick reeled backward, Vask taking the leisure of flourishing his weapon before advancing on his disarmed opponent.

Frederick regained his balance and threw the sharp end of the broken hilt at Vask to buy himself more time. Incidentally this turned out to be one of the most solid hits he had landed thought the whole encounter, raking a deep gash in thewyvern knight's arm.

Vask let out an extremely Plegian expletive, snarling like a stricken beast. He swung his axe again with his one good hand, striking wide and slow. Frederick back-stepped as far as he dare go to the edge of the makeshift arena the spectators had created, reaching for the small skinning knife he kept in his belt. It wasn't much, but hopefully it would be enough to finish this battle.

He made another charge; Vask saw him coming but one handed as he was at the moment, he failed to raise his ax in time to counter the blow. The knife sunk deep between the plates of armor protecting his midriff.

"Well, so the Ylissen dog has teeth." Vask choked, grabbing hold of Frederick's arm. "But this Plasian hound has fangs."

Frederick's eyes went wide as he realized he lacked the energy to break Vask's grip. He strained against the hold, only to be released and fall backward into Vask's perfectly predicted swing.

The great axe met metal with a sick crunch, plates giving way under the weight of the blow.

Frederick blinked a few times, stunned, clawing at his chest, a cheer raising around him from the crowd. He stared with blurred vision at the blood on his hands, his own blood, before darkness took him.

* * *

Notes:

So let me tell you a little about Captain Vask.

Remember Vasto, that insignificant mini boss from mission 7? Well, that's this guy, or was supposed to be. We needed a Wyrven rider to lead the squad in this chapter, and he fit the bill, so the guy got a plot promotion. His name is Vask because, well, I remembered his name wrong in the initial telling of this, and by the time we got around to looking up what his name actually was, Vask had stuck so hard there was no way it was getting changed.

So that's how we wound up with this charming fellow, and since his creation, he's carved himself a nice little niche in the story. The guy is going place. Places like headfirst into the side of a cliff.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

Barley woke early the next morning, lamenting a particularly uncomfortable pebble she had slept on. She didn't get up at first, just rolled off the infernal piece of rock, and listened to the sounds around her. It was fairly quiet in the cave itself. Someone here snored, and apparently the fire was still going. The songs of a few insects and birds were drifting in off the hillside, that was the loudest sound.

Barley pushed herself up painfully, and forced her eyes open. Her back felt like a slab of particle board. She looked around her, and confirmed what she had put together from her listening; Most everyone was still asleep. ll except the boy with the pot. His little nest was empty, and he was nowhere to be seen in the cave. He must be outside on morning watch.

Barley packed up her belongings as quietly as she could; no need to wake the others just yet. She shouldered her bag,and stepped over a sleeping Liz, chuckling to herself; Liz was thrown across her pallet in a crazy sprawl, and apparently she slept with her mouth open.

Barley continued to the fire; it was chilly in the morning here. She had noticed that the day before, but it didn't really mean much to a person until you were stuck outside in it. At least it would warm up fairly quickly. When she got there, she noticed there was a pot sitting over the fire; one that very much looked like the pot the boy wore. It was filled with nice, clear water that was just starting to simmer.

There were footsteps at the mouth of the cave, and sure enough, she looked to see the boy, without his pot, a bundle of greens and tubers wedged under his arm.  
His face lit up when he saw her sitting by the fire.

"Oh, good morning there miss." He said, "I wasn't expect you to be up so early."  
"Good morning." Said Barley back.  
He looked around at the sleepers littered over the floor, then began to pick his way over to her.  
"I was just about to get something together for breakfast." He said, in a much quieter voice.

The boy set his bundle of assorted plants down on a flatish stone, and proceeded to chop them up with a little hunting knife.  
Barley produced her own knife from a pocket and began to help.  
"Thank you kindly miss," he said smiling.  
"My name's Barley," she said, then paused. "I don't think I ever got your name."  
"My name's Donny. It's nice to finally meet you properly miss Barley."  
"Just Barley." She said smiling.  
"Well I can do that too."

Donny scooped up the mess of chopped greens and dumped them in the pot, then proceeded to poke things with a stick until everything was under the boiling water.  
"Barley huh?" He said casually. "That's an interesting name you got there."  
"It's what I go by."  
"So what you're saying is, that's not your proper name."  
Barley gave him a flat look.  
"Alright, alright, fair enough," he said, raising his hands. "I was just curious."

Barley looked into the pot. It looked like a wet salad. She reached into her pack and produced some of her own rations, a roll of jerky.  
"Do we want this in there?' She asked, holding it up for him to see.  
"Well of course."  
Barley proceeded to break the meat into the pot. Then a very uncomfortable thought struck her.  
"Donny, You did wash this before you started cooking in it right?"  
Donny actually looked offended at this.  
"Well of course I did. I know none of you want to be eating my head lice."  
Barley restrained a shudder.  
"Just making sure."  
"Fair enough," he said, propping his stirring stick up on a rock and sitting back. "Also, I was joking about the lice. I don't have no lice."  
"That's good to know."

People were up by the time the soup was finished. They had a quick, decently appetizing meal, considering the material they had to work with, then proceeded to get ready to leave. Barley watched Liz discreetly as she packed. She seemed to be doing better this morning. Barley was glad of that.

"I'm already all packed up, so I'll head out and give these dishes a scrub." Said Donny, catching everyone's attention.  
"Alright." Said Liz. "We'll join you as soon as we're done in here."  
Donny started to scrape together the eating utensils. Barley shouldered her pack, she had been ready to go for at least an hour as well.  
"I'll give you a hand."

The two trekked out of the cave, loaded down with dishes. Donny lead the way to a little stream not too far off. The air still had a cold nip to it, and the sky was a perfect frosty blue.  
"Should be a beautiful day for hiking." Said Donny as he scrubbed.  
"Definitely looks like it." Said Barley.  
They washed quietly for a while.

A screeching roar pulverized the morning stillness. Barley jumped up to see where the sound had come from. Donny looked up too, though he didn't seem concerned. Barley settled a bit when she saw he didn't react, though she still seemed a bit anxious.

"What was that?" She asked.  
"It's just a wyvern." Said Donny. "They come up here sometimes. They were making quite the ruckus earlier this morning."  
"Are they anything we need to worry about?"  
"Probably not. There not big on attacking people, usually. They prefer to go for cattle; the farmers hate 'em. But even if one did come looking for trouble, I'm pretty sure we could handle him."  
"I hope that's not necessary. We already have enough problems on our plate."  
"That is true." Said Donny, sounding serious for the first time that morning. "But were not that from from the capitol now. Maybe a half day's march if we hurry. Once we get back, her majesty the Exalt will get this all sorted out."

• • •

Before long, the rest of the group joined them at the edge of the stream, and they wasted no time in starting the march. The first part of the morning was uneventful; Liz took the lead again. She pressed forward determinedly, bouncing with every step. The rest of the group followed behind, in a knot or a line as the trail permitted. Mary road back and forth on her horse, pulling anyone up with her who seemed to be tiring, and letting them ride for a short distance. Everyone except Barley.

The going was faster than yesterday, early on, they struck what seemed to be an honest to goodness path. It was still a bit overgrown, bushes and low trees almost completely covered it, but at least they didn't have climb over rocks or push through chest high grass anymore. They started to appreciate the shade as the temperature continually rose. It was the general consensus that they would reach the capitol slightly after midday.

Generally, Barley would have preferred to go faster. Let alone the urgency, she just tended to hike faster than this, but she doubted that everyone in the group would be able to handle that; so she let Liz set their pace, and fell in comfortably behind her.

"What's the plan when you get back?" She asked after a while.  
"Tell my sister what's happened. That's all I can do really." Said Liz. "Then wait for Chrom to get back." She looked worried suddenly. "I hope nothing bad happens up north..."  
"Well considering the force your brother took with him, it would probably be petty hard to pull anything like they did to us off." Said Barley.  
Liz nodded. "That's true. Nobody would stand a chance against all the shepherds. The Khans probably wouldn't appreciate it anyone tried anything either."  
"Are the Khans your allies?"  
"Kind of?" Said Liz.

Barley raised an eyebrow.

"Well they definitely aren't our enemies." Said Liz, a bit flustered. "We don't have an official alliance with them or anything, but they're friendly."  
"That makes sense."  
"I actually got to meet them once." Continued Liz. "It was a long time ago, but I remember pretty well. They came to Ylisstol for Emmeryn's coronation. I liked them."

Barley opened her mouth to say something, but to her surprise, Mary cut her off.  
"Liz dear, would you like to ride with me for a bit?" She asked as she trotted her horse up beside them.  
"Not yet." Said Liz. "I can still walk some."  
"But darling, you don't want to tire yourself out." Retorted Mary in a motherly tone.  
"I don't want to tire your horse out either." Answered Liz playfully.  
Mary smiled a plasticy smile.

Barley adjusted her bag, she had the nagging feeling Mary had done that on propose. And she wasn't going away. She had stopped doing her rounds, and was just trotting right next to them; Barley was almost certain that Mary was watching her, though she didn't look over to check. She wasn't going to let how uncomfortable the noblewoman was making her show.

Liz was happily oblivious to the tension building behind her. when Barley didn't respond, she just struck up a new branch of conversation.  
"So have you made up your mind on what you're going to do?" She asked.  
"About what?" Said Barley. "Oh, you mean whether or not I'll stay?"  
"Yeah." Said Liz hesitantly.  
Barley sighed.

"I honestly don't know what I'm going to do."  
"I know this has been sort of a mess. And generally not the best introduction to the Shepherds, but you did great. I would love to have you in group of mine any day."  
Barley smiled.  
"I am considering it. At least for a little while."  
This answer was more than enough for Liz's satisfaction. She made a particularly energetic bounce as she walked, and broke into a broad smile. Mary coughed.

Another call from a wyvern echoed across the canyon, causing Mary's horse to shy. Braley jumped to the side to avoid getting rammed into. The wyverns had been calling periodically all day, though they had yet to see a single one of the creatures. They always seemed to be either in front of or behind them. Once or twice they had even been reasonably certain that there was one above them somewhere, but the brush canopy over the trail had prevented them from seeing it. Not that anyone had a problem with that. Despite Donny's confidence in their ability to take one on, nobody particularly keen on stumbling into one. They were causing enough problems at a distance.

Every time one of their cries rang through the canyon, Mary's horse had a fit. Mary did her best to control these episodes, but as the day wore on, the calls grew more frequent, and he became harder and harder to calm. This issue was only compounded as the path began to narrow. Mary fell to the back so no one would find themselves under the horse's feet. He was in hysterics almost constantly now, and his protests grew louder as they went on, echoing off the canyon walls. Eventually, Mary called a halt. She dismounted and rubbed the animal's nose lovingly, speaking calming words into the animal's ear. His eyes rolled, showing the whites, and he pressed itself into his master for protection.

"I'm afraid this isn't going to work anymore." Said Mary. "We can't go on with him like this."  
"What are we going to do then?" Asked Liz.  
"I'm going to let him loose. He'll be able to find his way back to my estate on his own." Said Mary, stripping off his bridal.  
"Uhh, are you sure that's a good idea with all the wyverns hanging around here?" Asked Donny.  
Mary seemed put out at being questioned.  
"I wouldn't have suggested if I wasn't sure. There aren't any beasts in the immediate area, and the path to my estate is through the fields under any circumstances. He will be well out of their way."

Donny was cowed at her sudden lashing out.  
"Mary..." Said Liz.  
Mary sighed.  
"I'm sorry darling." She said. "Do you have any objection to me letting him go?"  
"No.." Said Liz, "So long as you're sure about this."

Mary rubbed his nose one last time and then turned him loose. He seemed hesitant to go anywhere at first, just stood where he was. Eventually though, he slowly trotted back down the path. Then, to the shock and consternation of Mary, he jumped off the covered path and into the bottom of the canyon. Almost instantly, a cry from a wyvern split the air, and massive shadow streaked overhead.

There was a panicked scream from the horse. Mary jumped forward, she didn't make it far though. Barley grabbing her arm and dragging her back with shocking strength for her size. Mary was livid. She was so furious that she didn't even have words. She tried to thrash out of Barley's grip, but that just wasn't going to happen.

"Will you look first?" whispered Barley harshly, pointing through the brush. Mary yanked her arm away as Barley loosened her grip, then peered through the brush. The horse was tearing down the floor of the canyon, a massive reptilian beast on it's tail. Then Mary took in a sharp breath as she saw what Barley had. On the beast's back was mounted a man with an axe.

"What?" Said Liz as Mary drew away from the edge. "What is it?"  
Mary covered her mouth and shook her head.  
Liz looked thoroughly confused, and more than slightly concerned. She would have gone forward and looked herself, but Barley had stationed herself between everyone and the edge, the look on her face deterring anyone from coming any closer.

A man's voice rang out over the canyon, and everyone froze.  
"Over 'ere! I found somethin!"

Liz was white as a sheet. Barley watched cautiously from between branches as the wyvern was joined by two more riders. They had a conversation she couldn't make out.  
"Let's go." Whispered Liz quietly, and started to slip away up the path. The rest of the group followed, Barley coming last.

The group moved silently from that point on, sticking under the cover of the trees. The riders didn't stay congregated for long, after a short moment, they split apart, and started to comb the cliffside. The group cowered against the rocks every time a shadow passed overhead. They knew it was only a matter of time before they slipped up and were seen. And if that happened, there was no way they would be able to fight them all off. They went on for what seemed like hours this way.

Eventually Liz pulled everyone into a little cleft in the rocks.  
"What are we going to when we get to the end of the canyon?" She whispered, fighting to sound calm and collected.  
There was dead silence. Apparently, the problem Liz was talking about had yet to cross everyone's mind.

"What's at the end of the canyon?" Asked Barley apprehensively.  
"There's a big open field between the edge of the canyon and the capitol. Even if we make it to the end of this..." continued Liz with difficulty.  
"We'll just be picked off in the open field." said Barley, finishing Liz's thought. Liz just closed her eyes and nodded.

"Okay," said Barley, taking a deep breath. "How far is it from from the edge of the canyon to the capitol?"  
"It's not that far, Maybe a twenty minute walk, but unless you can run really fast..."  
"That would be far enough." Agreed Barley. "Is there any cover at all?"  
"Not really..."  
"There's a little town on the northern edge of the canyon there." Said Donny.  
"To reach that, we would have to crossing the canyon floor." Said Mary. "And even if we did indeed manage to reach your town before the Plegians caught us, they would very likely just burn it and take us anyways."  
"But the capitol is right there." Said Rick hopefully. "They would send help."  
"By the time help arrived, it would likely be too late."  
"And that's all assuming we made it past the canyon floor. Which is a big assumption." Said Barley, then paused. "Actually, Do they have any way to contact the capitol?"

Liz seeming confused by the question. "Well there's a bell.." She offered.  
Barley shook her head.  
"Never mind." She said, and then, more cautiously, "But I think I may have a plan."

"Well?" Asked Mary.  
"I think that I could manage to slip by the guards and get help." Answered Barley.  
"Where do you intend to go?" Said Mary. "Whether it's you or all of us, there's still the field to be crossed."  
"Not if I reroute through the town."  
Mary was still not enthused. "And crossing the canyon?"  
"Getting the whole group across is one thing, but I think I could manage it on my own. I have a lot of experience maneuvering on terrain like this." Said Barley. "Once I get there, I either hitch a ride or send a message through a group already headed to the capitol."  
"But what if you get seen on the way?" Said Rick.  
"Then I would draw them off and give you guys a head start." Said Barley firmly.  
"I don't like that." Said Liz, almost as firmly. "It's too dangerous."  
"It's not any more dangerous than just waiting here to be found." Said Barley.

She readjusted her back and looked out of the cleft.  
"When I'm gone, try and get a little closer to the edge of the canyon, so you'll be ready when help comes "

Liz still didn't look very happy.  
"I think that's a great plan" piped up Donny. "I'm going with you."  
Barley looked over at him. He wasn't kidding.  
"It would be better if I go on my own. One person is harder to spot."  
"Yeah, but if you did get spotted, you'd be in a rough spot all on your own. Besides, Shepherds always travel in pairs."  
"I'm not exactly a shepherd."  
"Close enough. And, not trying to be rude or anything, but how exactly are you planning to find that town anyways?"  
"I was going to ask you for directions." Said Barley.  
"Yeah, but it's so easy to get turned around with just directions. Now, I've been to that place a few times, so I could get you there easy."

Barley sighed. They were wasting time they didn't have.  
"Alright, fine. Just please try to be quiet."  
"Please be careful..." Said Liz in a defeated tone.  
"You don't need to worry." Said Barley. "Everything will be fine. We'll be back soon with help."

• • •

It was nerve wracking, and took a bit of backtracking, but Barley and Donny did indeed make it across the bottom of the canyon unseen. The most dangerous part was behind them; they maneuvered relatively easily up the opposite slope of the canyon. According to Donny, the town they were trying to get to ran parallel to the other side of the ridge, so the plan was to just slip over the crest of the mountains, and make their way down the other side. Everything should be pretty straightforward after that.

As the two climbed higher, the vantage point revealed exactly the situation they were in. There were four riders in the immediate aria. Two were combing the canyon systematically, circling like vultures. The other two were hovering right at the edge of the canyon, blocking any possibility of getting out at all. Beyond them could be seen gently rolling field of grass, and then the capitol. All in all, the distance between them and the city was probably five miles at most.

But it didn't matter much; there was no way to get there.

Barley kept her eye on the path Liz was taking as she climbed. Or at least tried to; it was turning out to be very difficult to pick out. It at least explained why they had made it as far as they had without being spotted. There were a few times Barley thought she could make out movement, but it could very well have been her eyes playing tricks.

After a while, Barley gave up all together. It was better to just stay focused on what she was doing. There were still wyverns to dodge, and the foliage was thinner up here.

Mostly, the riders were staying lower to the ground, which was very beneficial, but every once and again, the larger of the two would fly high, and take an overview of the whole canyon. Barley and Donny had to dive for whatever cover was in reach when this happened. It was getting downright frustrating.

"So what are we going to do if the Plegians aren't letting anybody through to the capitol?" Asked Donny as they were crouched under a tree during one of these sweeps.  
"I thought about that," said Barley, peeking out from the cover.  
"I doubt that'll be an issue. If they were cutting off communications like that, there would probably already be soldiers here."  
"That is true." Said Donny, then stopped suddenly.  
"What in tarnation are they doing?"

Barley turned so fast her neck popped. She was going to regret that later.  
"Where?" She asked, trying to see what the boy obviously did.  
"Somebody just ran right in the open there. I'm not sure who it was. There!"  
This time Barley did see. Somebody, it looked like Rick, had gone dashing from a clump of trees to an outcropping of rock near the edge of the canyon. What were they thinking? A third figure scrabbled across the opening, this one was definitely Liz. She covered the distance as fast as she could, and then disappeared between the rocks.

Barley looked at the patrolling wyverns. The two at the edge of the canyon were totally oblivious, and one of the patrolling was harmlessly scouring the wrong side, but the one higher in the air had stopped. Slowly, he began to drop, heading straight for the little outcropping.  
"That's not good..." Said Donny.

Barley went for her boot holster.

"We got to do something, draw him off somehow!" shouted Donny. Barley leveled her gun at the wyvern and changed to bullets. There was no way she could make that shot, not at her skill level, but a charge wouldn't make enough noise. All she had to do was get their attention.

"Cover your ears." She said, bracing herself, and pulled the trigger.

The burst echoed around the canyon like a marble in a jar. The wyrven she had been aiming at shrieked.

It fluttered frantically, struggling to stay airborne, but there was very obviously something wrong with it's left wing. It crashed into the side of the canyon, and rolled into the foliage below.

Barley stood there stunned. Donny was in no better condition. He was flat on the ground, hands clapped over his ears, looking just about as shocked as it was possible for a person to be. Barley grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.

"What in the name of Naga was that?" He stuttered. Barley didn't answer him. The two guards stationed at the end of the canyon had abandoned their posts, and were rushing back to find the source of the sound. Liz and the rest of the broke cover as soon as they were gone, sprinting for the open fields...

* * *

 _Notes:_

 _Here we have another prime example of a minor character deciding they want a bigger slice of the plot._

 _Donny was not supposed to be a main character. In any way shape or form. After this trip he probably wouldn't have shown up again, at least not for any other reason than to acknowledge his continued existence in the Shepherds. But no, he had to go and tie himself into Barley's little escapade, effectively locking him into the main cast for the rest of the story. And oh, what an adventure he has gone on..._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

* * *

Barley dragged Donny across the shelf, scrambling for a point where there was actually brush enough to conceal them. One of the remaining wyverns split off to assist their downed companion, the other two ascending to the higher shelves, scanning for who or what had caused the explosion.

Thankfully, the men seemed anxious to get close to the cliffside, and the wyverns seemed even less fond of the idea than they were. They bucked and thrashed, fighting every order, eliciting foul strings of oaths from their riders.

But as nothing more happened, they began to grow bold.

Barley and Donny wedged themselves into a shrub shadowed crevice as the the riders swept over their position. They were so close to the cliff their mount's wings beat the shrubbery; the two could hear the creature's breath as they passed. It was only a matter of time before they were searched out by smell.

Then suddenly, they jerked away, flying back towards the bottom of the canyon.

Barley's stomach turned over; she knew only one reason why the riders would abandon their quarry like that. She scrambled out of the crevasse and to the edge of the crag, peering down after them, Donny poking his head out of the bush behind her.

Below, the wyverns were gliding along the floor of the canyon, their pace rapidly increasing, as they took up the chase of their new quarry: Liz's group.

"That's really not good," said Donny.

Barley didn't waste a second, she tore forward across the shelf; Donny scrambling behind her as fast as he could, nearly tripping and falling several times as they went tier to tier down the canyon.

But there was no way they would be able to catch up, not in time to do anything useful.

"Barley?! What are we gonna do! Think of somethin! Get your fangly gadget out, make it go boom again!" Shouted Donny.

"I can't, They're too far away now." Gasped Barley.

The wyverns were getting precariously close to Liz by now. The panicked group had nearly reached the capital. They were almost among the farthest buildings, but at the rate the riders were gaining, it wouldn't matter. They had discarded any attempt at stealth, ripping right over the open field; somebody in the capitol had to be noticing the situation.

There was a roar above them, and Donny looked up to see the third rider barreling overhead, racing towards the rest of his group. The sound was echoed back from further in the canyon as more riders cropped up across the sky. There were at least seven of them, rising out of other places in the canyon. The newcomers were too late to get in on the action of hunting Liz; the situation would pan out one way or another long before they would be close enough to change the outcome, but they could still get at the two stragglers only just reaching the field…

Barley and Donny redoubled their pace, running as fast as their legs would carry them; it was pretty obvious that they had also been spotted, and the wyverns behind them were gaining quickly.

"Are you going to use that contraption of yours again Barley? Because it would be really useful about now." Said Donny, on the verge of panic.  
"Not unless I have to."

"How does this not count as 'have to'?! How close do you want 'em to be!"

Barley didn't bother to answer. In all earnesty, she doubted she would be able to hit their pursuers if she tried, not running like this, and she didn't have the ammo to be taking pot shots.

Liz's group were in among the buildings now, ducking among the the structures as the two wyverns dove at them. Further in the capitol, bells begain to ring as shouts and screams rang out from the civilians.

Barley and Donny's own position was fast deteriorating. Neither of them dared to look back at their pursuers for fear of losing their footing, but they could hear wingbeats dangerously close behind. There was a clatter as the first barrage of arrows landed near them; they ducked their heads, Donny clinging to his pot.

A trumpet call rang out from the capital, and a hand full of white shapes took to the air.

Donny let out a triumphant, unfortunately accented shout, punching the air as he ran.  
"The pegasus knights are here!"

First two, then four, then a dozen pegasus knights emerged from the capitol, brandishing lances and bows. They dove straight for the wyverns, driving away the group pursuing Liz mere moments before she would have been taken. A few stayed behind as a guard, the rest hurling forward to confront the pack chasing Barley and Donny. And it was a good thing they did.

The two were in rough shape now, their pace slackening by the second, but the line of wyverns chasing them, only four strong, didn't seem to deem Donny and Barley worth engaging the full Ylissen royal guard over. They swerved off, swinging back to rally with the other of their number still streaming in from behind.

The two slowed as the pegasi flew over them, charging headlong towards the uneasy pack of wyverns. Liz ran back to meet them, her protectors still hangin in the air above her.

"You guys are okay! I was so worried." She choked, grabbing the both of them in a hug.

She held them there for a good moment, making it reasonably difficult for them to catch their breath. She finally let go though, as the rest of the group caught up to them. Barley slumped to the ground, discreetly slipping her gun back into her boot holster and pulling the leg of her pants back over it.

Liz gave a happy sigh. As far as this adventure went, they were safe.

The fighting in the air looked to be going reasonably well; about a dozen wyverns had congregated from around the canyon, but most had taken one look at the knights flooding out of the capital, and turned tail right then. The rest were fleeing just ahead of the knights, exchanging an occasional blow, but mostly channeling their efforts into leaving the area as quickly as possible.

One particular knight flew down beside Liz's group. The rider's long, strikingly red hair struck a shocking contrast to the white feathers of her pegasus. She jumped off her mount, walking past everyone else and coming straight to Liz, her expression somewhere between worried and scolding.

"Princess Elizabeth. We have been beside ourselves with worry. Chrom got back not but half an hour ago and told us what was going on; I'm so so glad you're safe."

Liz gave a nervous, embarrassed chuckle.  
"Yeah, I'm sorry about worrying everyone miss Cordelia. But everything's fine, now that you're here. You sure saved us."

Cordelia gave a frazzled sigh.  
"I'm sure your sister will have a word with you later. For now, get back to the castle. Everyone will want to know that you've made it back. My knights and I will take care of these Plegians. Now off with you."

Cordelia shooed them away, jumped back on her pegasus, and took back to the air.

Liz gave an uneasy, undecided turn, trying to pick a road, before walking away briskly. Barley stood up immediately and started to shadow her; deciding it was probably best she not go alone. If she was going to stay with the group, she would need to report to somebody at the castle anyways. Slowly, Donny, Rick, and Mary headed back to the Shepherds barracks. They needed to rest, collect themselves, and inform the other Shepherds, if they were still there, about what was going on.

Barley hoped to herself that Donny would have the foresight to not mention her weapon, or at least not telling ridiculous stories.

• • •

Liz walked quickly, an anxious trip in her step, mumbling over the report she was going to give to her siblings. She had quite the story to tell them, and things were not looking pretty.

Before long, the two of them made it to the castle gates. A figure was pacing around incessantly in front of them. It was Chrom. Despite how exhausted she was, Liz broke into a sprint when she saw him; Barley hung back as they collided into a hug.

The two had their bit of emotional meeting; bubbling over thanks that the other was okay. After they had enjoyed their reunion, Chrom stood up and walked over to Barley. There was something in the look on his face that did not feel was very safe. She stood to attention, ready for the worst.

The Prince glared down at Barley for a minute, tempering his words for the stiff little thing in front of him.

"We are going to have some questions. Again. For now, we're meeting with my sister and her council." he said simply, and turned away.  
Barley felt a shiver run down her spine; this was not going to end well. You could only take so many questionable instances to one's name before it became generally unsafe to be around.

Chrom took his sister's hand, and began to walk into the castle. Barley was at a loss, not sure whether she was expected to follow or not. The two didn't make it that far though before Liz turned around and waved for her to follow.

Barley adjusted her bag on her shoulders and trailed after.

She quickly recognized the rout they were taking as that to the throne room. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the group found themselves once again in front of the ornate double doors.

Chrom walked in first, he hadn't seem particularly inclined to let go of Liz's hand through this whole walk, and this was no exception. Barley followed in last, after Chrom and Liz had made it a significant distance into the room.

Emmeryn was already there, waiting patiently for their arrival, flanked by a pair of guards on either of her sides. Upon seeing everyone, she waved her hand, dismissing the men around her.

"Liz, I'm relieved to see you safe, we feared the worst." she said, stepping forward and clasping her little sister in an embrace. Liz just buried herself in the folds of Emmeryn's robes.

"What happened?" asked Chrom, obviously trying to weed the sharpness from his voice, and generally failing.

Liz tensed, and even from within the fabric, everyone heard the breath she took. Emmeryn placed a hand on her head.

Chrom took a breath himself, his agitation liquefying at Liz's distress. He looked like he may speak again, but Emmeryn raised her hand.

"Neither your brother nor I are upset with you, Elisabeth." she said softly, "Merely concerned for your wellbeing. There's no need for a report now. Go with your brother, rest, this evening you will be able to tell us everything that's passed."

"Okay," said Liz softly, though she still didn't seem terribly interested in letting go.

"The council will also be meeting this evening." said Emmeryn, moving her attention to Chrom. "You should rest as well. The future of this country, of all we have tried to accomplish since the war will rest on its conclusion, and I will need your assistance."

Chrom nodded. As the prince, he understood these things. He was no good at them, but he understood it. He had preparing to do, and if possible, rest to take. He sorely needed it.

Gently, he took Liz's hand again, leading her from the room. Barley turned to leave as well.

"Barley, come here for a moment, I would wish to speak with you."  
Barley flinched horribly at the sound of her name. She turned slowly, placing her hands behind her back.  
"Yes?"

Emmeryn gave a small laugh.  
"Worry not child; I hold no anger towards you, and you are not in any trouble. But, if you would not mind, I would like your account of things."

Barley hesitated.

"You were one of the few to accompany my sister, and since you are a foreigner, you hold a unique position as an unbiased witness."

Barley nodded slowly, then hesitated again, not sure where to start.

"There isn't a whole lot to tell, at least as far as the 'meeting' goes. I'm not sure how things were expected to go; but Liz and I were cornered as soon as we walked into that room."

"But wasn't your whole group present at the meeting?"

"No, Liz and I were the only ones."

Emmeryn gave her a curious look.

"They didn't want anyone but Liz to go." Said Barley quickly "But I- I posed as a personal attendant. The whole thing seemed off, I just didn't want her to go alone-"

"And you did right." said the exalt gently.

Barley took a slow breath and continued.

"We were taken to a room where the king was waiting-"

"King Gangrel was there?" said Emmeryn, eyes darting to Barley's face.

Barley felt the urge once again to not hold her gaze, an urge she forcibly squelched.

"Yes, he lead the meeting. I got the feeling that that wasn't part of the plan."

Emmeryn held her for a moment longer, then released her and nodded.

"Continue."

"The King obviously had no interest in talking about what Liz went there for, the second the conversation began, he started twisting things in the direction of the treaty. He wanted something-"

Barley stuttered over her words, trying her best to explain something she didn't fully understand.

"He wanted something impossible; something you couldn't give. A Fire Emblem? He tried to get some sort of assurance out of Liz; and when he couldn't, he ordered us arrested for trespassing."

Emmeryn gave a tired sigh.

"That is consistent with what Chrom has already told me. But then, how did you escape Gangrel's custody?" she asked, after a moment of quiet.

Barley looked confused. "We didn't. We- they never caught us, we escaped the fort."

The Exalt's expression clouded again.

"I see." she said softly, and turned away.

"I am afraid that, for all the danger you were put through, Liz was correct. The Fire Emblem is not something that can be given, or taken. The ramification of such a thing would have consequences on the entire world."

Emmeryn looked towards the throne in the back of the room; above it, hung a golden crest, a immoderate sized, ornately carved shield inlaid with five sockets. Barley didn't need someone to tell her what it was. The Exalt stood there for a long while, thinking deeply, almost seeming to have forgotten that she was there. Barley waited patiently for her to speak again.

When she did, it was quickly.

"Thank you for your time Barley, you may retire to the shepherds garrison, where I hear you've been staying."

"Thank you," said Barley, giving a quick salute.

"Barley?" said the Exalt again.

Barley stopped and looked back.

"Thank you for accompanying my sister."

• • •

It took a bit of wandering to find the shepherds barracks again; but when she finally did reach it, she suddenly felt unsure as to whether on not she should enter. She decided against it and sat down quietly in the doorway, opting to rest some before meeting an onslaught of hostility or questions.

Regrettably she didn't get much time to herself, as the door decided opened on it's own. The person coming out gave a yelp and whipped around to see what they had tripped on. It was Donny.

"Oh! Hey there Barley, where have you been? I heard the prince was looking for ya." he said with his usual cheeriness.  
Barley's expression instantly twisted, apparently trying to imitate the knot in her stomach.  
"Ehhhh... Are you okay Barley, you ain't looking so good.  
"I'm, fine."

"Ahhhh, you sure? You're looking a little under the weather. Maybe I could get something for ya."  
"I'll be fine," repeated Barley, this time with a slightly better hold on her tone.  
"Ya sure? Kellum's got some soup on the brew."  
"I'll eat when everyone else does."  
"Well everyone else is just getting ready to eat now, if you want you could come on and sit down with the rest of us."

Barley hesitated, then sighed.  
"Alright."

Donny offered her a hand; she let him help her up, and they walked into the barrack.

The two made their way back to the dining hall, where all the shepherds had already gathered. They were going about their usual brand of idle conversation, collecting their meal in their, usual, disorderly manner. No one seemed particularly worried or stressed or even slightly tensed. In the sparring room down the hall, Chrom and Vake could be heard dueling.

Barley took a quiet seat in the far corner of the room, not particularly interested in mingling, an unfortunate habit she seemed to be developing of late; though her eyes did instinctively searched the room for Liz.

Donny walked off, heading towards where Kellum was working, his usual suit of armor replaced by an apron that read "kiss the cook", Miriel at his side, systematically filling the bowls of all who approached.

Shortly after, Liz popped up beside Barley with her own half finished bowl of soup, looking kind of nervous. She rocked back and forth on her heels a bit, looking like she may say something, but never did. After a few moments of awkward nothing, she just took a seat on the bench next to Barley.

Donny eventually came back, dropping a bowl, a slice of bread, and a spoon in front of Barley before taking a seat himself.  
"Thanks," said Barley.

There were a few moments of tense silence.

Finally, Barley turned to to Liz. "You know, if there's bad news, It just makes it worse not saying it."

Liz started rocking her feet under the table again.  
"Nothing's wrong really... Chrom's, upset. He's taking his frustration out in the sparring room. And Frederick's missing..."

"What?"

"Frederick left Ferox before everyone else to tell Emmeryn that we were missing. He… never arrived. His horse showed up outside the stables, but he never did."

"Well I hope he's alright..." said Donny.

"I do too." said Barley quietly.

There was a stuffy silence.

"And if you're wondering," said Liz softly, giving another poke at her food. "It's not you Chrom's mad at... although he'll probably take some of his frustrations out on you anyways, Chrom get's frustrated, it's not very pretty. Though he's already heard it from me. And, I know that, sometimes people don't think I'm.. The best judge of character. Chrom's not going to hurt you. Or kick you out or anything."

"Did either of you tell anyone about the wyvern incident?" asked Barley quietly.

Liz just looked confused, Donny however, squirmed uncomfortably.

"Uhhh, I just uhh... They asked for a mission report see, so I ahh... I told it like I saw you know?"  
Barley stared back down into her soup.

Donny trailed off, looking like a kicked puppy dog. Liz withered herself, looking more like a lost puppy dog. Barley, well, she just looked exhausted.

"I'm going to go to bed." Said Barley, pushing her bowl back.  
"Where's- where are the cots?"  
"You can find the bunks ahh, go back to the entry room, just stay along the right wall, and it will take you too the bunks. If there's not something on it or under it, you can just take that one." said Liz  
"Thank you," said Barley, standing up.

Barley made her way back to the bunk room. It was a long, low room, filled with two rows of, well, bunks along each wall. There was an assortment of random personal junk, ranging from dirty laundry to spare weaponry, on and around each bed. Some were more readily taken care of than others, Barley figured they belonged to the Ladies. And probably Kellam and Frederick.

She scanned the corners, looking for a bunk that appeared to be uninhabited; the barracks clearly had enough room to house more than twice the current number. Many of the beds in the back were still untouched. Barley picked one as close to a window as she could get, took her bags off, slid them underneath, and tumbled on top of the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable. Though, when she thought about it, not that surprising given the fact that the leader of the group was the prince.

"Why, hello there."  
Barley froze, taking a took a long, preparatory breath. Slowly, she turned around to see, in a bunk in on the opposite wall of the room, the blue haired archer. He was reading a book, or, more specifically, peering at her over the top of it.

Barley nodded in his general direction, before returning to what she had been doing.  
"Ooh, cold little flower. What a terrible way to greet a gentleman." He said, setting his book down on the bed. "Could this last battle have left your tiny heart scarred? Do tell."

"I'm sure you've already been briefed." Said Barley flatly.  
"Ohh, yes I have, but those reports are so drab. It is much more exciting to hear it straight from the horse's mouth, as it were."  
"I'm not really up for retelling it right now."  
"Ahh, fair enough. I'd hate to pressure you. You've been through so much since you joined us."

Barley stood on top of the bed and started pulling at the window, trying to pry it open. It didn't appear to have been used since it had been turned into the bunk room.  
"Here, let me help you with that..."  
"I've got it," said Barley.  
"No, you see, really, it would be my pleasure and you seem to have a little bit of trouble with it."  
Barley gave it one good yank and the window came open with a snap.  
"I'm good, thank you." Said Barley.  
"Very well. So cold."

Barley sighed, starting to feel a bit guilty.  
"I'm sorry. I'm not in a great mood this evening."  
"That is fine. So long as this is not your normal demeanor. To grow into a woman of the same icy heart would be a… Cruel, cruel fate."

Barley shrugged, guilt fast replacing with annoyance.  
This was not a conversation she was going to have with him, of all people. She lugged her sleeping bag out of her backpack and laid it across the bunk, and crawled in.

"If you don't mind me asking one last question of you?"  
Barley poked her head back out.  
"What was that fantastic weapon that you had with you, that could fell such a mighty beast as that faceless."  
Barley dove back in her sleeping bag; that was the exact question she was wanting to avoid.  
"No no no, you can not, please. I demand, or at least.. No, not demand, it is unbecoming of a gentleman. I kindly request the answering of my query."

"That's.. It's..."

"it is rather unbecoming of a young lady to act so coldly to a simple man as I."

Barley didn't answer, just stayed wedged in the toe of her sleeping bag. She didn't know quite how to answer; if she refused to tell him, that would get around fairly quickly, and it would not look good at all; but she still wasn't keen on everyone here knowing the details of her personal armory.  
"It's kind of like magic from where I come from."

"Some kind of magic? That's interesting to say. You don't strike me as quite the mage."

Barley shrugged, though, he couldn't see her as she was still inside her sleeping bag.

"You are not much of a conversationalist are you?"  
Barley laughed quietly.  
"Hmm, there we go, I knew you could laugh. Though I shudder to think what your friends go through. Do you even have friends?"  
Barley ignored him.

There were a few moments of relished silence.

"I do hope Chris is okay." said Virion after a while, more than to himself that anything. " We left Farox in such a rush that he was left behind. I'm sure that the Khans are treating him well. He's quite the fighter after all."  
Barley raised an eyebrow at this; it seemed like the team is falling apart.

Without Virion pressuring her with more questions, and the rest of the Shepherds occupied elsewhere, Barley quickly fell into a slightly restful nap.

* * *

Notes:

Just so we all are on the same page, yes I know wyvern and pegasus knights do not carry bows in game. Allowing those units to use that weapon in this story was a conscious, calculated decision.

It's kind of like shrinking Liz's ridiculous hoop skirt, and breaking Falchion, I just can't see how you could have a flying unit in your ranks and not give them some sort of ranged weapon. Yes, Dark fliers do get tomes, but when you really think about it, how far do you expect a loose burst of magic to fly and still remain accurate? So the flying units get bows. Just a little something I felt was worth sharing.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Barley wasn't aware of how long she had been asleep before someone began shaking her.  
She gave a violent thrash, and scrambling out of the sleeping bag.

The room was dark, she had obviously slept for a while. It was also completely abandoned, all except one figure, standing pensively back from her bunk.

"Who-"  
The moment the word left her a hand was put over her mouth.  
"Shhhhh. It's me, Chris. You okay Barley?"

Barley still wasn't past the idea of biting him. She gave a convulsive thrash, throwing him off, though she didn't try to speak again.

Chris took a step back, raising his hands non threateningly at her glare.

"I was hoping to find Chrom here, I guess I was a bit late. It's important we get to the castle now, and I'm gonna need your help. But stay quiet, stick to the shadows. They're watching us."  
Barley gave an uneasy, unbelieving glance around, though her critical gaze quickly looped back to Chris. She did not look amused.

"What's going in is probably not what you think, but I don't have time to explain it, I just need you to follow me. We need to get to the castle now." Chris repeated, the urgency in his voice kicking up a notch.

Barley slid out of bed, and grabbed her bag, and followed.

Silently as possible, the two crawled through black the barracks. The sun had gone down, and it was dark in the streets. Other than the abundance of lamps and lanterns, there was very little light, Barley assumed that it was some phase of the waxing moon.

A lump of unease was creeping up in Barley's stomach. She grabbed Chris's shoulder.  
"If you are dragging me into something against the Shepherds..." said Barley, a threatening tone in her voice.  
"Shhhhh." Chris hissed. "I can't talk any more than I need to. You're just going to have to trust me."

Barley let go of Chris' shoulder as he turned away. Something seemed very off about this situation, but she followed him anyways. She didn't know what else to do. If there truly was something wrong, then maybe she could help. If not, and the shifty tactician was up to no good, then she would humor him until she found an opportunity to rat him out.

Chris definitely seemed on edge, eyes combing the corners of the empty rooms as they passed. He actually lunged at the shadow of a bookcase once, then shied away sheepishly when he realized there was nothing there, deliberately avoiding Barley's critical stare.

Eventually, he managed to weave his way to the kitchen. It was completely deserted, just like everywhere else. By the look of it, it had been abandoned in a hurry. There were dishes from an evening meal left unwashed, and several not quite empty pans left on the grate.  
"Where is everyone?" Asked Barley, almost inaudibly. Chris just put a finger on his lips.

Chris inspected the kitchen to make doubly sure it was empty, then turned to the old, boarded up fireplace in the corner. He signaled for Barley to join him when he saw that she was still lingering in the doorway. Silently, Chris undid a hidden latch and lifted away the board cover.

"Chrom showed me this." He said quietly. "It leads to the roof."  
'Now you talk.' Thought Barley.  
"You first." He said, trying to urge her along.

Barley grit her teeth. There were no words for how much she didn't like this. What was to keep him from just sealing her in? But then again, if he wanted her out of the way, why would he have woken her up in the first place. Cautiously, Barley stepped into the dark little hole.

She had been expecting the fireplace to be a small sooty mess. It very small, and stuffed with a few cobwebs, but there was no soot.  
"There are rungs in the wall on the left side," whispered Chris. "Start climbing. I'll come in after you."

Barley felt along the wall until she found something metal. There were indeed rungs imbedded in the wall, making a ladder up the chimney. She began to climb.

As soon as she was out of his way, Chris followed her into the cramped space. He scuffled with something, apparently having a hard time putting the boards back in place, then started to climb as well.

The barracks only had one level, and not a very tall one at that; it didn't take long for Barley to reach the top. She hoisted herself out of the chimney and looked around. Nothing seemed amiss. Everything was quiet below; there wasn't a soul in the lamplit streets. The night had turned cold somewhere along the way, and a stiff wind was blowing.

Barley's attention was drawn by a movement not far away. A figure had stood up out of a shadow, and was walking across the roof toward her. Barley backpedaled, nearly winding up back down the chimney. The figure quickened its pace, causing the slaets to grind under their boots. Barley went for her staff.

Chris popped his head up just in time to prevent an unfortunate situation.  
"Don't worry, he's a friend." He said quickly, scrabbling his way free of the chimney. Barley slowly lowered her hand, but she didn't take her eyes off the figure.

"That's it?" They said, turning to Chris.  
"She was the only one who was there." Chris answered. "The others had all left."  
"Then we may already be too late already. We don't have a second to lose." Said the person, their voice hitching up a few notches, and started to clamber off the roof.  
"Come on, hurry," said Chis to Barley, and followed suit.

Even in the dark, Barley could see they were heading for the castle; she had been that way enough times by now, and it made sense. Aside from Chris saying so over and over (something she wasn't feeling inclined to take at face value at the moment) Emmeryn had said she would be calling everyone back there sometime this evening. They met no one on there way; the streets were completely deserted, probably because of the cold.

Chris and his companion pressed on with an urgency bordering on panic. When the castle came into view, the stranger swerved, sticking to the wall instead of going up to the gate.  
They followed this course for a while, until the stranger stopped suddenly.

"This way," he said, and dove into the bushes growing against the wall. They followed him into the thicket to find him kneeling in front of a hole, caused by a missing stone. He disappeared through this without a word. Barley wasn't the only one who hesitated this time. It was clear that Chris was not expecting this part of the plan. Whatever the plan was.

"Let's go." Said Barley, and dove into the hole herself. Chris followed with a good deal more difficulty, being the biggest of the group by a fair margin.

On the other side, was a landscaped courtyard. They emerged almost inside of a flowering hedge. Chris's companion was waiting for them there. He pressed his hand against Barley's shoulder, signaling for them to stay low, then crept forward along the hedge in perfect silence.  
The faint sound of footsteps echoed toward them from the other end of the courtyard. Chris' companion froze. The steps continued to tramp toward them, following the little cobbled path laid through the garden beds.

It was Chrom. He stopped not far past them, taking deep gulps of the garden air, as if it were some sort of tonic. He looked exhausted and frazzled. Barley felt bad for him.

Chris and his friend started to move again. To Barley's consternation, they seemed to be stalking Chrom. The mystery man placed his hand on the hilt of his sword; Barley grit her teeth. She wasn't about to wait and see what was going to happen, discreetly she putting her hand on her own weapon.

There was an explosion of movement on the other side of the path; another man had leapt out of the bushes, sword raised. Chrom stumbled backward, trying to draw his his own weapon, but there wasn't enough time. There was the ring of metal against metal. Chris's companion stood over the prince, the attacker's sword caught on his own. Chris leapt forward himself, finishing the assassin off in two strokes.

Chrom was stunned.  
"What is this?" He shouted, then his eyes widened as he recognized the figure in front of him. "Marth!?"

"There's no time to explain my Lord." Said Chris, dropping his head in a quick bow. "There are more enemies. We need to get inside. Quickly."  
Chrom didn't need to be told twice. He rounded instantly and started to head back the way he had come. Suddenly, the silence of the garden was shattered by shouting. It was coming from the castle.

Chrom broke into a sprint. He didn't stop when he got inside, just continued to run for the throne room, Chris following close on his heels. Marth however, seemed to have other plans, branching down another passage. Barley looked between the two groups, then ran after Marth.

The man wound through the halls, laying low anyone who attacked him. There weren't only assassins, but foes dressed as Ylissen soldiers as well as resin monsters. Everything was chaos and confusion, shout and the clang of weapons rang on all sides. No one seemed to know who to be fighting.

Marth rounded another corner and tore into a group of seven men waiting in a doorway. Three went down quickly, the rest started to coral Marth against the wall, a spearsman watched just outside the brawl, waiting for an opportunity to run him through. Barley charged forward and knocked this man's feet out from under him. His helmet rang as it slammed into the floor and his spear went rolling away, the noise distracting the others for a crucial moment. Barley laid into another man from behind, bringing him down mid swing with a blow to the helmet. The other two didn't last long after that; Marth rounded on her as the last man fell.  
"What are you doing here?" He asked, sounding reasonably irritated. Barley didn't say anything.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Marth looked up, then dragged Barley into the shadow the men had been hiding in.  
A group of royal guards tromped past, Emmeryn tucked safely in the middle of them. When they were gone, Marth loosened his grip on Barley's shoulder, then looked out after them.

"You shouldn't have followed me," he said with a sigh. "I appreciate your help, but you really shouldn't be here. You need to get back to the others."  
Barley silently slipped passed the man, and would have been off then and there, but he grabbed her shoulder again.  
"You can't just go wandering around this castle on your own. You'll run into trouble."

He glanced around him. The hall was empty, but there was the tramp of boots drawing closer.  
The two of them ducked down into the alcove again as a troop of resin stormed passed. Marth looked after them urgently, then at Barley.

"Don't move from this spot-" he started again, then broke off in a frustrated growl.  
There was a movement deeper in their little alcove, Marth was on it like a shot. He dragged another man from deeper in the shadow. He had a bag over his shoulder, and a piece of cloth over his face.

"You. Filth." Marth spat, tearing the hood off of the thief. "How could you take advantage of a situation like this?"

"I don't see what else I should be doing with it." Answered the thief with an infuriating degree of nonchalance, ducking right out of Marth's grip like a greased pig.

Marth proved a bit to fast, cutting him off just before he could slip out of their alcove, making the thief flinch backwards in surprise. "Why don't you make yourself useful and escort this girl back the throne room."

"Pft, why should I?" The thief scoffed.

Marth didn't answer, just produced a clinking bag from a pocket. The thief looked unimpressed.  
"What's that?" He asked, jabbing at a brightly colored back poking out from the same pocket.  
"Energy drops." The thief's eyes narrowed. "Sweets." Said Marth plainly.

"I'll take it." Said the thief, snatching the bag with a shockingly fast motion.  
"Where am I taking the little missy again?"  
Barley and Marth just stood there, too shocked to answer. The thief's turnabout was unreal.  
"Everybody here needs help." Muttered Barley in an exasperated tone.  
Marth actually laughed at this.  
"The throne room." Said Math, then directed his attention back to Barley.  
"You stay there. I'll be there myself before too long if all goes well." Then he dashed off.  
"You heard the woman," said the thief as soon as Marth was gone. "Now I gotta keep an eye on you. No trouble alright?"  
He placed his hand on Barley's shoulder. Barley promptly shrugged it off, and started on a brisk canter down the halls.  
"Alright then..." Said the thief.

The throne room turned out to be less than an ideal place to be. It was packed wall to wall, seething with resin, imposters, and castle guards. Most of the Shepherds were here too, for all Barley could tell. The din was terrible. She thanked her lucky stars they had come in through a side door, instead of the main entrance; they would have been torn to pieces.

Barley quickly and deliberately lost the thief in the mess, and searched for a familiar face. She tried to stick to the edges, out of the way, but even so, several people took a swing at her. Whether they were enemies, or confused allies, she had no idea.

After a few chaotic, dangerous minutes, She spotted Liz wedged into a corner. Donny and Rick were there too, fending of a clump of resin. Barley dashed forward to help them.  
"When did you get here?" Asked Rick, shouting over the ambient chaos. "I thought you were sleeping."  
"I came with Chris." answered Barley shortly.  
"Chris is back?" Asked Liz breathlessly. "Where is he?"  
"Around here somewhere."

A troop of Ylissens charged in front of them, shielding them from the brunt of the fight.  
"Is - has anyone been, is everyone okay?" Asked Barley breathlessly.  
"I think so," replied Liz. "Miriel got hit pretty bad, but I dealt with that."  
Barley nodded.

"The Fire Emblem!" They distinctly head Chris's voice bellow. "The enemy has the Fire Emblem!"  
A roar of rage spread across the room. The enemy seemed to be retreating, now that they had what they wanted.  
"Retrieve our own! For Yllise!" Roared Chrom.

Chrom charged out with most of his forces, leaving just enough men behind to secure the room. It calmed down after that.

Healers from around the castle began to congregate in the hall, grouping up the injured to be tended to. Liz stepped forward to help with these proceedings.

"Wait," said Barley. "Where was your sister being taken?"  
"She and her personal guards were taken to the tower." She answered.  
"She should be safe there." added Rick. "It's what the tower was built for after all."  
Barley nodded.  
"Stay in this room unless your brother specifically tells you otherwise, okay?" She said to Liz. "Keep an eye on her." she added to Donny and Rick, and dashed out of the throne room.

Barley did her best to avoid being caught in the thick of the fighting again; though it wasn't all that difficult. The bulk of the enemy forces seemed to have moved toward the castle gates, the opposite direction Barley was trying to go. She didn't know exactly which tower Emmeryn was supposed to be in, but she had an idea, and she knew at least part of the path that she had taken to get there.

Barley knew Marth was guarding the way, as well as the royal guards, but she just needed to make sure everything was alright. For her own sake. It wasn't like she could be of much help anywhere else.

The halls were devastated. Every bit of furniture they had contained had been thrown down and splintered beyond recognition, and their tapestries shredded down to the fibers. Even the stone wall bore the mark of that oozing filth that was brought forth by the dark tomes of the Grimleal. But all was quiet now.

At least for the most part. There were still a few people around; mostly healers and their escorts, picking through the carnage for injured, and a few lingering troops of soldiers, all of which Barley carefully avoided. She still had no good way to distinguish enemies from allies.

What was more of a problem where the resin. The creatures hadn't seemed to have gotten the memo that their forces were retreating; with no major conflict to draw them, they wandered through the halls in ones and two, looking for stragglers. At least they were easy to identify. Barley took out as many of the monsters as she felt she could handle with just her staff; there were still too many people around to risk firing her gun.

Before long Barley found herself at the base of a tower. A quick jaunt up the spiral stairs though proved it to be the wrong one. It ended abruptly in a low ceilinged chamber, a little door leading off of it onto a rooftop courtyard.

Barley looked around, trying to get bearings on exactly where she had ended up. It was quiet. There was the ripping of a lonely little fountain, but that was all. She slowed, breathing hard, trying to decide where to go.

On the far end of the roof, there was another tower, a light glowing from one of it's top windows. It was as good a bet as any, and Barley forced herself to run again. She knew from experience that it wasn't a good idea to stop, or she would collapse into a wad of quivering jelly.

She didn't make it far though; there was the click of steps, and she stopped dead, retreating into the shadow of a wall instinctively. A dark figure was crossing the roof. They were tall and lean, wrapped in a billowy cloak. That's all that Barley could make out of it in the dark. She had no idea whether it was an enemy or not. It made it's way up to the base of the tower, and disappeared inside.

As soon as Barley was sure they were gone, she slipped inside herself.

The doorway lead straight onto the winding stairway wrapping around the inside of the tower. Down the shaft, Barley could just make out the gleam of torches on the ground level far below. She looked at the situation and shuddered; she wasn't particularly afraid of heights, but these stairs did not make her feel safe at all. They had no railing, and they were steep.

Above, Barley could hear the even, easy steps of the figure, accented by the gentle drag of their robe. She looked up to see them mounting the stairs, headed for another door set in the top of the tower. Barley began to climb herself, slowly, and cautiously.

As she climbed, she grew more confident, and quickened her pace, though she made sure to stay silent. Something about the man in front of her made her feel it was best to go unnoticed. Maybe it was something about the way he moved, or the fact that there were bones worked into his cloak. Or maybe it was the look in his narrow, angular face. He had an air of easy confidence, like he had something to do, and all the time in the world to do it in.

Whatever it was, he made Barley very uneasy. His relaxed pace made it easy for Barley to catch up to him. She hung as close to him as she dared, trying to decide what to do. Her gut told her to lambast him then and there; the castle was swarming with enemies, and she had no problem believing that he was one of them, but what if she was wrong? Maybe he was a dignitary going to join the Exalt? That could explain his demeanor, but she didn't like him any more for it.

The only thing that restrained her was the knowledge that if she made any mistakes, it would be the end of her truce with this country; the treatment she had received from the prince that afternoon assured her of that.

So she continued to follow, right on his heels, waiting for him to make a wrong move.

A faint, rhythmic sound echoed up from the layers of stairs below, steadily growing louder. More footsteps. The cloaked man turned around suddenly, looking a vicious kind of annoyed. Then he saw Barley, not ten feet behind him; his expression contorted from annoyance to rage. Apparently his ego was not flattered to find that a child had managed follow him for who knows how long undetected. Barley backed away as he loomed over her, trying to get out of his reach.

That was a mistake.

His long strides completely outmatched her blundering scrabble. She should have struck out before he had had time to gather his wits. Now he had the advantage; an advantage he didn't need in the least. Barley changed tactics, planting her feet and lunging forward with the end of her staff, hoping that the suddenness of the attack would throw him off guard. That was another mistake.

The blow hit the man in the stomach, causing him to double over, but before Barley could break away, he grabbed her wrist with one of his long arms. He was much stronger than his gangly frame suggested. With one quick movement, he twisted Barley's weapon away from her, sending the staff rolling harmlessly down the stairs, then dragged her close to him, almost inside the folds of his cloak.

The steps on the stairs were very close now. The man spun Barley around and wrapped an arm around her neck just as Marth came running into view.

Marth faltered when he saw the situation before him, gritting his teeth in frustration.

The man's lip curled in the faintest of smiles.  
"What will you do now?" He said softly.

Marth still hesitated, and the man laughed. He started to climb the stairs again, backward, dragging Barley along with him.

Barley, however, was not about to sit still and be used as a human shield. The man's gait had become uneven from the strain of dragging her, and she could feel that his center of gravity was off.

Barley grit her teeth. She waited until he was in mid stride, then grabbed hold of the arm he was using to restrain her, and stepped on both of his feet. The man reeled in surprise. Of all the things he had been expecting, that had not been it. Barley pressed her advantage, throwing all her weight forward, sending them both tumbling down the stairs.

She was lost in the folds of cloth as they rolled. She wrapped one hand around the back of her neck as she felt herself smash against the stone steps, frantically trying to stop herself with the other. The man was heavier, and he tumbled past her, straight off the stairs, to the bottom of the tower. Barley dimly processed a shriek as he fell.

She would have gone off the edge as well if it wasn't for Marth. He dropped his sword and leaped forward, grabbing hold of her an instant before she fell.

He dragged her up against the wall; Barley just stayed there for a moment, curled into a little ball and breathing hard.

"Are you alright?" Asked Marth, breathing heavily himself.  
"Y-yeah."

Barley pushing herself up slowly. If she was injured, she didn't feel it. Though she would definitely be feeling a few of those bumps once the adrenaline wore off.

Marth looked like he was about to scold her, but seemed to change his mind.  
"Come on, hurry," he said instead, and started back up the stairs.

There was a low rushing below them; a purple light rippled up from the shaft of the stairs.

The mage, it was pretty obvious that's what he was now, drifted back into view, his body wrapped in a vicious cyclone of magic energy. He was looking very, very displeased.

"Emmeryn was supposed to be an easy target; you will pay dearly for this interference!" he roared, releasing a violent torrent of purple ether.

Barley and Marth scrambled different directions as the frothing, electric mass engulfed the stairs they had been sitting on. The impact shook the tower as two steps fell away in heavy, liquefying chunks.

Marth was quicker to his feet, pulling out both a shortsword and his dagger as he dropped into a stance to lunge, leaving Barey to scrabble after her lost staff on the higher curl of the steps.

The mage held the high ground, so to speak, hovering over the precipice of the tower's hollow center, bombarding the swordsman with blast after blast of ether. Marth found his attacks easy enough to dodge, the tight space allowing him to read his heavily telegraphed spells with ease, even given his limited maneuvering room. However, without taking a leap of faith, there was nothing he could do to counter.

With no other choice, Marth braced himself at the edge of the stairs, preparing a jump to the opposite side. There was a split second of hesitation, then he jumped, hurling himself at the hovering mage.

The mage seemed surprised, completely unprepared to take the blow; even so, as Marth lashed out with his shortsword mid-air, the blow fell short against the whirl of magic surrounding him.

The backblast sent the sword flying from Marth's hand, nearly causing enough upset for him to miss his landing on the opposite spiral of the stairs. The mage chuckled darkly, lowering himself down to meet Marth again, magic surging to his hands as he readied another attack.

The next blast took out another piece of the stairs, leaving Marth stuck between the gaps. Marth pushed himself up and lunged forward with his dagger.

The mage was slightly more prepared this time; though not enough to anticipate Marth's dagger piercing his shield. The blade scratched his shoulder, tearing the fabric of his robe, before the mage whirled up and caught Marth by the wrist, pulling him aloft in the air.

"You… How did you get this blade?" The mage hissed, his voice a mix of incredulity and rage. Marth didn't answer, using his free hand to bash the dagger's hilt, driving it again through the shield.

The mage answered in kind, flaring up his magic with enough force to send Marth crushing into the wall. There was a light clink as Marth's mask went tumbling down the tower; its owner hardly seemed to notice, scratching at the stone floor in an attempt to catch a breath.

The mage held the dagger in his hand for a moment, gazing at it with a level of contempt reserved for mortal enemies, before tossing it away to join the mask at the tower's base. He hovered himself over to Marth, pulling at her (for it was plain to see now that 'Marth' was definitely a her) lengthy hair now splayed everywhere. Forcing her to meet his own gaze, the mage's eyes burning with hate.

"I… am at a loss for words, Foreseer." The mage spat. "Our god cautioned us against you, but to think you would directly challenge this fate…"

"Go back to the hells, Validar." Marth shot back, still wheezing for breath, unable to muster the strength to break free from his grasp.

"I'm sure I will. Send them my regards in advance." The mage's power began to rise once more, sparking and oozing into his free hand. "To have come so far to fall here. I relish the irony."

Marth grit her teeth, preparing for the impact, but it never came. There was a tumble, a yell, and Validar lurched forward with a choke, eyes wide, the sparks dying out in his fist.

Barley stood behind him, her staff's hidden blade was impaled into the mage's back. The plasma blade's open circuit spat and fizzed as the wiring picked up on the mage's dark energy, sending bolts of magic running down the shaft. Barley let out a yell as she was thrown back, hand seared.

Validar twisted around, his face contorting in pain, thrashing in the air as he tried desperately to reach the weapon. The more energy he sunk into staying aloft, the more the staff sparked and jolted, draining away his power as fast as he could summon it. The mage's pained grunts turned to despair wails as he lost the focus to channel more power, sinking down faster and faster until he was out of sight, the glow that had filled the tower dieing out with a soft thud.

Marth painfully pushed herself up and looked at Barley. She was white as a bedsheet and looked like she may be sick.

"Come on, Barley." Marth said horsely, offering a hand to the girl, clearly past the point of caring that her disguise was blown.

Barley went to take it but pulled away as Marth's hands brushed her blackened fingers. She opted instead for wedging herself under Marth's shoulder, doing her best to take some weight off the still hunched swordsman.

The two hobbled down the stairs, taking great caring in passing over the damaged stones and gaps that the battle had created. As they neared the bottom, they could make out a lumpy pile of cloth in the lamplight, lying in the middle of the floor.

Barley pulled away from Marth, not sure she wanted to see. Marth had no such reservations, going straight to the heap of cloth. She stood over it for a moment, still breathing heavily. Cautiously, she dragged a foot through the pile, then kicked the robes, sending them fluttering. They were empty. The only thing left in them were the bones that had decorated the man's apparel, and the blackened remains of Barley's staff.

Satisfied, Marth located her dagger and mask, replacing them both to their respective positions, before tucking her hair back beneath her collar. She gave a quick look back at Barley, giving a curt thanks before walking off as quickly as she could manage.

Barley went to the pile of cloth herself to retrieve her staff. She picked it up gingerly, wincing as she turned it over to inspect the damage. The blade was devastated, a twisted strip of slag, and chances were, so was the wiring. The shaft itself was blackened, but mostly undamaged.

The situation could be worse. She hardly used the blade anyways, and even twisted like that, it would be formidable; but it's peircing properties were gone, and she had a nagging feeling she was going to feel that loss sooner than later. To her relief, the staff still collapsed fine.

She tucked it away, not feeling up to holding the thing longer than she needed to, and turned to follow Marth, but froze as footsteps rang from the other passage. Braley whirled around to see Chrom, Chris, and Frederick. They didn't seem to noticed her at all as they entered the room. Chrom had retrieved the Fire Emblem it would seem, it was strapped to his wrist like a shield. The group headed straight toward the stairs of the tower, apparently going to check on Emmeryn.

Barley started to turn again, still planning to follow after Marth. Chrom snapped toward the movement, sword read, then stopped dead when he saw who it was.  
"What are you doing here?" He asked, but didn't bother waiting for an answer. He bounded up the tower, trying to recover the ground Frederik had gained on him.

Chris however, stayed behind. After a moment, Barley realized he was still expecting her to answer Chrom's question.  
"There was someone in the tower." She started hesitantly. "He was going for the Exalt; Marth and I stopped him..."

To her relief, Chris seemed to completely believe her.  
"Where's Marth?" He asked, looking around.  
"She ran off. Down the passage." Said Barley, gesturing to the opposite hall. "I was just about to follow when you showed up."

Chris hesitated for a moment, looking up the stairs after Chrom and Frederick.  
"Come on," he said, once he had gotten over his complication, and sprinted off down the passage after Marth.

Chris dodged through the halls keeping an eye out for his new companion. It became obvious after a few minutes though, that it wasn't going to be that simple; there was no sign of the man anywhere.

The fighting seemed to be just about over by now. The sound of a few scuffles rang from the remotest corners, where a few straggling invaders had wedged themselves, but for the most part people had begun the painful process of picking up the pieces after the battle. The only enemies Barley and Chris encountered were unarmed and under guard, or being lead away, presumably to the dungeon.

Chris stopped briefly by some of the groups they passed, and asked if anyone had seen Marth, but no one could tell them anything. Eventually, they found themselves back in the main hall. Chris continued to conduct his inquiries, and Barley left him too it, looking for her own little group.

The only person she was able to find was Donny. Barley found him sitting on a bench in the corner of the room, a swath of bandages around one shoulder. He smiled broadly as he saw her approaching.

"Well, hi Barley, I wondered where you had got off too." He said cheerily.  
"What happened?" Asked Barley, glancing at the bandage.  
"Oh, this?" he said, raising his arm a little. He winced, and let it drop again. "It's not much more than a sprain. Miss Maribelle's going to be around to mend it soon anyhow. Looks like you're needen a bit of healing yourself."  
Barley nodded.  
"Where are the others?"  
"Well, Rick's gone off with a group flushin' the last of them risen out of the east wing. Not quite sure where Liz is at though."

Barley looked less than happy at this.  
"She went off with a couple of soldiers a few minutes ago." Continued Donny, hoping to put her at ease. "There were probably some wounded somewhere they needed her help with."  
"Did anybody know she was going?" Asked Barley even more uneasily than before.  
"Well I don't know, somebody may have noticed; though she was kind of off by herself when the guards came up to her..."  
"Which way did they go?" Barley's tone hitching up from unease to concern. Donny on the other hand, was quite confused.  
"I don't really think there's need to be all worked up," he offered cautiously.  
"Where ever she's got off to, the soldiers were with her. They'll protect her well enough."  
"Donny," said Barley, struggling to keep her cool. "This castle is full of imposters."

The concept hit the poor boy like a physical blow.  
"I... I didn't think of that..."

"What's going on?" Asked Chris, walking up to the pair quickly; he had apparently picked up on the tension.  
Neither Barley nor Donny answered him. Donny was scrabbling off the bench, looking the slightest shade pale.  
"This way." he said, and lead the way as fast as he could down a passage leading off the main hall. Barley and Chris followed right on his heels.

They didn't make it far though. The hall was a central one, and all along it's right side, passages branched of into other points of the castle. The other wall was all windows looking into the courtyard. Donny's sprint petered out, as he looked, bewildered at passage after empty passage.  
"How are we ever going to find em?"

"What is going on?" Said Chris again, more demandingly.

Barley deferred the explaining to Donny, and started to look around the room for anything that could help them. There had to be something to show them which way to go.

Then a thought struck her. Why would an enemy take Liz deeper into the castle? Earlier in the battle, maybe, but now? The fighting was over, and they had lost. Any enemies left in the castle were pinned down. Unless they were just looking for a dark corner to.. to...

Barley threw that thought away. Liz was too valuable for that. They must be trying to get her out of the castle.

"Come on!" Shouted Barley back to the others, and started moving up the halls again, glancing out the windows as she passed. Up the hall a ways, a movement outside caught her attention. A group of figures had appeared in a doorway, and were moving quickly into the open courtyard. One of the figures appeared to be being dragged.

Barley stopped dead. As the group passed out of the shadow of the castle, she was able to make them out more clearly. There were two men dressed in guard uniforms, being dragged between them was a bound and gagged Liz. She was thrashing desperately.

Barley inspected the window; it was wide, but even if she broke it, the iron frame supporting it's design would keep her from getting out. The others had joined her at the window by now, and had apparently seen the situation for themselves.

"This way!" Shouted Chris, breaking into a sprint down the hall. Barley and Donny followed, but his longer stride was leaving them behind. Barley skidded to a halt as she saw another window. This one was smaller, but plain, and more open.

"Here!" She shouted. Barley pulled out her staff and slammed it against the glass, but given the state of her hands, she was unable to break it.

"Move" said Chris, roughly pulling her aside. He leveled his tome at the glass; the window never stood a chance.

The men were far across said courtyard by now, heading for the stables. Barley scrambled out the window as soon as Chris made it though, Donny directly behind her. One of the guards looked back at the noise, shouting an alarm. They redoubled their speed, hauling their captive along like a sack, rounding the corner of the stables and out of sight.

The group rounded the corner seconds later, only to be buffeted back by a gale of wind.

Hovering over the stable yard was a black pegasus. On it's back were Liz, and the dark woman, Gangral's advisor.

There was a shout from Chris and a crack of thunder; the woman raised her hand leisurely, and the bolt dissipated. She laughed at the consternation and rage on the tactician's face, but didn't wait for another shot. She urged her mount higher into the air as her two men rushed forward.

Barley rounded to face them, gripping her staff as best she could. Seeing the bad position she was in, Donny stepped forward, wielding his spear as best he could one handed.

But the enemy never reached them.

Chris dispatched the first man instantly with a bolt of lightning. The second swung at him, but he dodged the blow, and punched the man in the face. The man dropped his weapon and staggered backward, Chris followed after, pounding the man again and again. The man sunk down to his knees.

"Enough!" Shouted Barley, rushing forward and grabbing Chris's arm. He shook her off.

Chris stood over the man, breathing ragged, but he didn't hit him again. The man laughed, causing Chris's face to contort into a snarl of rage. Barley discreetly grabbed hold of his arm again.

"What are you going to do now?" Spluttered the man through his bleeding nose. "Now that we have your little princess?"

Behind them, Barley heard Donny talking urgently to someone. She looked back in time to see Staul, with a small detachment of troops. She hadn't heard their approach, but it would seem they had been there long enough to hear the imposter's last jibe.  
Sthal looked at Chris with an expression of unbelieving horror. Chris just shook his head, unable to speak.

"Get that dog out of here." Staul growled. Two of his troops rushed forward and started to haul the man back toward the castle.  
"The king will be waiting for you in the northern pass." He said as he was being dragged away. "You filth will be begging on your knees in front of him before tomorrow passes."

-

The rest of the night was somewhat of a blur.

Everyone made their way back to the main hall in silence. Chrom was there, as well as Emmeryn, and the members of the council who had been with her.

When Chrom heard what had happened, he almost went into hysterics. He and his sister left the room immediately, ringed by the council, and a few trusted friends, to determine what was to be done. Everyone else continued sullenly to remedy the carnage after the fight.

Barley did her best to help, but she was more in the way than anything else. She was completely ignorant of how things were done around here, and no one was in the mood to instruct her in proceedings. Eventually Barley found herself shuffled into a corner, trying to shredding cloth for bandages.

She wasn't the only one in that predicament it would seem. There was another woman standing in the corner as well, looking out on the chaos of the room beyond. She was a rather strange woman.

Barley snuck glances at her between her work, not wanting appear rude by staring. She was tall and slender, with dark, scruffy hair, and a good deal of fur. Where her skin was bare, it seemed the wrong color somehow. Her most outstanding feature however, were her long, floppy ears. Barley was rather surprised how comforting it was to see her; someone who wasn't a human. Maybe she had been living in the north too long...

Eventually the woman looked over at her; Barley gave her a tired smile. The woman cocked her head in a half endearing, half condescending way.  
"The Ylisse seems quite fond of bringing their kits into battles." She stated.

Barley was a bit taken aback. She looked back down at her work, wondering if she was expected to answer. When Barley looked back up, she found that the woman was still staring at her intently, nose twitching.

"You aren't from here are you." She stated again.  
"No." Said Barley.  
"Can smell the difference." The woman said, seeming quite pleased to have been proven right.  
"What brought you to the Ylisse? You're a bit young and frail to be a hired fighter."

Barley pondered how to best answer the question.  
"I didn't mean to come here at all." she said, deciding frank honesty would be the most appreciated response.  
"I just got really lost."  
The woman chuckled softly.

Barley handed off the bandages she had made to a passing healer, and stood up to try to find more work.  
"I wouldn't bother yourself." Said the woman. "The way of these men is hardly worth learning. I would rest. It looks as if it would do you better."

Barley did bother, or at least she tried to bother. Almost immediately, she found herself running nose first into the same problem she had encountered earlier. Before long she had resigned herself to shredding more bandages, and went looking for more clean cloth. Though it didn't help all that much as no one had the time to bother with even that small enquiry.

She eventually found another cleric doing the exact same thing she had been, sitting off in another corner tearing up a pile of cloth for bandages, which were amassing in a small pile at his side.

"May I help?" Barley asked. The man didn't answer, just grunting the affirmative and motioning to his side. She reached down to grab some of the cloths, only for her arm to be quickly, but gently, snatched back.

Looking over to the man, she was met with a fierce gaze. He looked worn, with a scar running down over his left eye. The expression he wore made Frederick look like a teddy bear.

Barley tried to pull back, and when she did, the man immediately let her go, and his expression changed from stone cold to near panic instantly.

"O-oh, sorry, little miss…" He apologized quietly. "I, uh. Just saw yer hands. Got burned pretty bad. Fight a mage?"

Barley nodded slowly.

The man reached out a grabbed a small staff, more of a rod then anything, and offered it out. "May I?"

Barley glanced sideways, she still wasn't overly fond of the staves, but then again, she couldn't really afford to be unable to use her hands for the next few weeks, especially the way things were shaping up.

She gave a small nod, and the cleric pushed himself up. There was the same light from the staff, and the same queer sensation, then the burns were gone, at least mostly.

"That bit of black tends to linger, specially with the more powerful spells." the healer said, "But it'll fade after a while. " he added quickly, before Barley could get too concerned.

"Thank you." said Barley, and sat down again to shred cloth.

It wasn't long before the cleric was called away to deal with a more important matter, and Barley was left alone again. At some point she started to drift, fading in and out of a confused, exhausted consciousness as she worked. The room became quieter and quieter as the night wore on; eventually the hall completely emptied. No one bothered to wake her, or maybe they just didn't realize she was there.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Barley had no idea what time it was when she finally woke up; there were no windows visible from the corner she was wedged in. She pushed herself up and looked at her wrist, only to remember that she had taken her watch off before coming to this place. It was in her left coat pocket, the coat hanging back on the peg in Vileet's lab... A black pit churned in her stomach.

She surveyed the area around her. The hall was perfectly empty, and completely silent. It was hard to imagine the carnage that had taken place here the night before. Any trace of it had disappeared, leaving the room oddly bare.

She sighed and inspected her hands.

The blackness of the burns had all but faded by now, just as the healer had said they would, but her hands were stiff, somehow her palms felt thicker than they should; She guessed it was a side effect of how fast the scar tissue had formed.

But at least she had use of her hands again.

Barley began to walk. She didn't know exactly where she was going, but at least she was moving. She wandered the castle for a while, half hoping she would find a familiar face. But she had no such luck; the rest of the castle seemed almost as empty as the hall.

She encountered a few servants, and a guard or two, but none of these spared her more than a glance. Eventually she found herself at the front gate, and continued her wandering out onto the town beyond.

It was still chilly outside, and there was a wet, sticky mist settled in the streets. The first of the days workman were starting to emerge, going about business as usual; there did seem to be a few more soldiers around than Barley had noticed before, patrolling the streets slowly.

She directed her drifting more or less in the direction of the Shepherd's barracks; it was the only place that she knew to go. She walked up the steps quietly, listening for the familiar buzz of voices from inside, but there was nothing.

The possibility that the Shepherds hadn't come back here after the fight crossed her mind. Maybe they had gone straight off to rescue Liz, or left in the early morning. Barley pushed the thought away; honestly, it didn't matter. If they had left her, so be it. She was better off on her own anyways.

She looked at the door, wondering just how turning the handle was going to work, but before she had reached a conclusion, it started to turn on it's own.

Barley stepped back as the door swung open, revealing a rather disheveled looking Chris. He started to walk out, then saw Barley. His reaction was worthy of Kellam.

He jumped backward, almost falling off the narrow doorstep.  
"Barley!" He said, when he had somewhat recovered himself. "Where have you been? People have been looking for you."

"I fell asleep in the main hall. No one woke me up when they left." Said Barley.  
"Oh..." Said Chris.

"Where are you going?" Asked Barley, after a moment of rather uncomfortable silence.  
"I have some things I need to attend to."  
"What kind of things?"  
"Urgent things? I'll probably be gone a couple of days."  
Barley nodded. She stepped to the side, so she wouldn't be in his way anymore.

Chris hesitated.  
"Have you decided what you're going to do about staying here?" He asked finally.  
"What do you mean?" Asked Barley.  
"Have you decided whether or not you're going to stay with the Shepherds."  
"Well I can't really just walk away after what's happened, but if you're asking whether or not I'm going to stay for a while, I don't think so."  
This answer didn't seem to appeal to Chris terribly much. He sighed deeply.  
"Look, I know I can't tell you what to do, and it would appear that you know pretty well how to handle yourself, but I really advise you stay."

Barley didn't respond.

"I know I myself haven't been here very long, but I've been here long enough to see that these are good people. You won't find many groups like this in the world. They've taken care of me, and they'll take care of you if you'll only give them half a chance. It's pretty obvious you feel like you're getting the cold shoulder, and I can totally understand why, but even the grittiest warm up to you after a while. Just give them a chance, you'll see."

Barley still didn't answer. Chris sighed again.  
"At least stay until I get back. I'm asking you as a friend. Then when I get back, I can at least help you off."  
"Alright..." Said Barley.  
Chris seemed relieved. He patted her shoulder and gave her a smile, something Barley did her best to return. Chris finally tromped past her down the stairs, and headed in the direction of the stables.

Barley caught the door on her arm before it closed and ducked into the entryway.

Even once inside, the place still seemed dead. The only sound was a few hushed conversations; compared to the place's usual level of activity, it was a graveyard. Barley considered going into the common room, but after giving it half a second's thought, the idea seemed a rather unappealing one. She didn't belong there, and quite frankly, she could do without the attention. After a few moments, she turned into the dining room instead.

The room was completely empty. It was what she had been hoping for, but actually seeing what was usually the brightest room in the barracks so lifeless didn't exactly help that sinking feeling in her stomach. She wandered between the tables aimlessly for a while, trying not to eavesdrop on the muffled conversations from the other room.

Eventually finding herself at the table Liz always dragged her to.

Barley closed her eyes and thrummed her her fingers on the wood. She had made a mistake, she should have never left Liz alone last night. And now the crown prince was more likely than not preparing to take the whole of the Yllisen army after her. She had no idea what to do.

Barley sighed and reached for the book sitting in front of her, it was one of Chris' something he had probably left there on accident after the last meal. One of it's fine, lightly browned leaves had been dog-eared, marking a spot somewhere in the latter half. Despite everything, she felt a soft pulse of half hearted frustration. She sighed, shook her head and flipped the book open.

She was immediately surprised by the text.

It was written in a different language than any of other books she had picked up, something much more familiar. She could actually make out words she recognized, even if it was an odd dialect.

Honestly, when she thought about it, it wasn't that surprising. After all, people spoke a language she could understand, notwithstanding a rather thick accent.

She buried herself in the pages, making them out as best as she could. It was the best reading she had had in a couple of days now, or rather, the only reading.

Anything was better than just sitting there alone.

She found that as she continued, the language became easier to understand.

It was a history of some kind, though having no point of reference to ground the events, it was a bit hard to follow. It could have been a lot worse though, despite all it's flaws. It was a surprising detailed account, written more like a story than a history book, and by the sound of it, by someone who had actually taken a part in the events.

Barley tucked her fingers under her current page and flipped to the front of the book. On the first leaf of the manuscript, An Account of the War of Shadows was scrawled in an overblown hand. Below it was scrawled an even more overblown signature, the only letter of which she could make out was a very curly C.

Which wasn't helpful in the least bit.

She sat there a while looking through the pages, but the longer she sat there, the more of a headache it gave her. As much as she wanted distraction, she had too much on her mind to tackle learning yet another world's arch of history. Something seemed to be happening in the other room anyways.

She shut the book and left it, heading in that direction.

By the time she poked her head around into the common room, whatever had been happening seemed to have already concluded. Chrom was there, sporting an expression usually worn by Frederick. He had apparently just finished giving another inspiring speech, as he was in the process of getting off the ever present soap box that seemed to follow him around.

As soon as he was off his perch, he beelined for the hall leading to the sleeping quarters and sparring room.

Once he was gone, the rest of the Shepherd began to disperse. Chrom seemed to have given them some sort of direction, as they were beginning the rather haphazard process of gathering supplies.

Barley stood beside the doorway of the kitchen for a while, watching, and doing her best to keep out of the way, that is until she saw a familiar pot bobbing around near the edge of the group.

Donny seemed to notice her as well, and made his way over to her.

"What's happened?" Asked Barley.  
"Well ahh, hi Barley. Uhh, how you doing? What brings you over here?" he said, somewhat nervously.  
Barley didn't even bother answering that question.  
"Do we have a plan?"  
Donny made an uncomfortable noise.

"Well uh... Let's see here." He tapped the pot on his head a few times thoughtfully.  
"I don't know a lot more than what you heard, but uh, some of the Plegian dignitaries and bigwigs and stuff, I don't know exactly, but they set up a little meet and greet up by where we were uh, you know, attacked by them. The canyon. So Chrom's gathering everyone up, and we're gonna go and meet 'em there, talk about how we can get our princess back." he said a bit nervously.

"Well at least there's something set." Said Barley.  
"Yep, we're all gonna to be heading out here pretty shortly actually. If you wanted, you could give us a hand gettin' stuff together." He said a bit more cheerily.  
"Of course." Said Barley, then stopped. "Actually, no. I need to go talk to Chrom."

"Ehh, Yeah, I guess eh..." He said, then stopped and attempted to start again. "You see here, Chrom is very protective of, his family. I respect that. But eh, be careful around him, he's kind of bent out of shape."  
"I understand."  
"Well uhh, I'm gonna, go help miss Sumia get some of the supplies together."  
"Alright."  
With that, Donny walked off into the kitchen supply area. Inadvertently, there was a sudden increase of the noise of pans.

Barley watched him go, still rooted to the same spot. He didn't understand the half of the situation, and she honestly didn't know if it was a good idea to approach Chrom, but she couldn't do much of anything without his approval.

She could hear his voice from the sparring room, it sounded like he and Vake were dueling again. Barley took a deep breath, and walked to the door, but didn't exactly get a chance to open it. Just as she reached for the knob, the blade of an axe poked through with a loud thunk, sending her jumping back into the opposite wall.

There was some obnoxious yelling on the other side, and the axe was quickly pulled back again.  
"Fantastic." thought Barley.

She stepped forward again, listening and waiting for the combat to move to another portion of the room, then slowly opened the door.

She slipped in silently, completely unnoticed. Chrom was dodging around his rival, Vake swinging his axe wildly. Barley made a mental note never to get near him while he was in combat. Chrom, despite having the advantage over Vake's axe with his sword, was put mostly on the defensive by his attacks.

It took Barley a bit to realize that they were dueling with real weapons; She questioned questioned the wisdom of such a thing..

She skirted the edge of the room, keeping away from the combat, waiting for the men to finish. It didn't take long; there was a loud bop as Chrom hit Vake on the head with the pommel of his sword, sending the burly man to the ground.

Despite the force of the blow, Vake seemed hardly injured at all; he seemed to be thick skulled in more ways than one. Chrom helped him back to his feet, they exchanged a few words (none of which Barley couldn't make out), gave each other a firm handshake, and started to leave. Vake grabbed one of the small towels off the corner of the arena, and threw Barley a thumbs up as he walked out the door.

Chrom looked to see who Vake was signaling to, then stopped, looking fairly surprised.  
"Still hanging around I see." Chrom said, approaching her. "Something I can help you with?"

Barley took a deep breath.  
"I was wondering if I could come with the Shepherds to the meeting point." she asked firmly..  
Chrom looked thoughtful for a moment, and more than a little bit hesitant.

"I really care what happens to Liz, and I want to make sure that everything goes well. I want to be able to help you get her back. She's the reason I haven't left here already, and I'm not going anywhere until she's safe."

Chrom nodded. "That's very noble of you, and trust me, I appreciate all the help I can get. Yeah, you can come. Just make sure you're ready, we'll be leaving here shortly."  
With that Chrom made his way out of the room, leaving the sparring floor quiet and empty.

Barley waited a moment, then walked out as well, making her way to the door.

She looked around, trying to find something she could do to help, but by now it looked like the shepherds had everything well in hand, just waiting for the signal to move out; everyone seemed in quite a hurry to get this on with.

Chrom had already reached the head of the group; it wasn't exactly hard to spot him with that head of blue hair. He sat atop a horse clearly decorated to denoting him as the prince.

He didn't give a speech, he didn't give a rallying cry,  
He simply rounded his mount, and began marching off.

Everyone got on their horses and followed after their leader. There were no carriages or carts, everyone who was coming was mounted; Barley had no idea what she was supposed to do.

Somebody grabbed her by the pack and pulled her up.  
"So I hear you're coming with us" the woman said; it was Sully, one of the shepherds cavaliers. Barley didn't answer, she looked reasonably shocked, and was still trying to settle herself properly on the horse. Sully laughed and lashed her mount to the front of the group.

The Shepherds didn't go straight for the canyon, instead veered to the side, making for a small village right at the entrance.

They halted at the furthest outlying house, the building was very similar to their outpost in the capital, though a bit smaller.

People started to unload their horses, carrying what little supplies they had inside. Barley jumped down herself, and looked for something to carry off, that is, until Chrom once again took a position at their head.

Barley stopped what she was doing, waiting for Chrom to say what he was obviously about to. Slowly things quieted as the others began to notice as well.

"Alright everyone," Chrom began. "Get set up and ready to move at a moment's notice. By the accordance of the the Plegians, I'm allowed to take two with me to the negotiations. Where's Chris?"

There was no answer; there was a mumbling as everyone began looking around.  
"I ahh, pretty sure I saw him take a horse a few hours ago and leave." Piped up Donny, from somewhere near the back. Barley breath a sigh of relief at not having to make that announcement herself.

The entire crowd, Chrom included, fell silent. The Prince took a breath, a very unhappy sounding breath, then spoke again, not missing a beat.

"Stahl, Sully, you're with me. Everyone else, be ready. And someone take note, I'm going to have to talk to our tactician when we get back."

Without another word, he turned away, not waiting for Sully and Stahl. The two instantly sprang back on their mounts and rode after him as fast as they could. The rest of the Shepherds continued to bring the supplies into the building, and to wait restlessly for Chrom to come back.

Chrom and his two knights road quickly to the canyon. As they approached the meeting point, they weren't exactly surprised to see a considerably larger force awaiting them. There was at least one entire division of wyvern knights, several cavalries and at least two dozen soldiers surrounded the area. At the head of the whole Plegian legion, stood King Gangrel.

At his side were two more familiar faces; cuffed and on their knees were Frederick and Cordelia.

Chrom halted as he recognized them, expression shifting through shock to rage.

He dismounted his horse and approached the mad king slowly; Sully and Stahl hanging back a short distance, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Neither of the hostages looked up as Chrom approached, Cordelia, likely out of shame. Frederick, on the other hand, looked as if he simply lacked the strength. Most of the knight's upper body was nothing more than a wrap of reddened bandages.

Chrom grit his teeth. So this is what had become of his missing knight.

Hearing the sound of his liege, the injured knight weakly lifted his head, giving back a barely visible smile of reassurance. Chrom could still see that unquenchable fire in his protector's eyes.

"Well, as much as I am loathe to break up this heart-rending reunion, I believe we have business to attend to."

"Welcome princeling," The Mad King said, taking a few steps forward himself to Chrom half way. "I'm glad to see that unlike your father, you actually had the courtesy to meet. So now that I have you here, I do believe we have matters to discuss." he said, rubbed his hands together in a manner that could be described as none other than devious.

"Simple trade, one that has already been rather rudely denied me. And as you can see here, I have a bit more to trade this time."

"What is it you want Gangrel?" Chrom asked, cutting straight to the point. The king tapped his chin.

"Well I believe that you've already heard I want your precious Fire Emblem, but seeing as I have been told that you're not willing to part with it, I was wondering if maybe I could get something else from you. Something you're far less attached to."

"And that would be?" Asked Chrom again, starting to lose his patience.  
"Oh oh oh, before we get to that, there's one other piece I'd like you to see."

Gangrel snapped his fingers and several of the Plegians separated behind him, revealing Liz. She was pinned in place between two soldiers, looked dazed, and rather ruffled. She barely had enough time to realize that Chrom was standing in front of her before she was shuffled to the back of the crowd again.

Chrom's face twisted into a savage snarl; he looked like he was about to lunge after her.

"Ah ah princeling," tutted Gangrel, holding up a mocking hand to halt him.  
"Ready to talk terms yet?"  
"What do you want Gangrel?" Chrom hissed.

"Ohh, not much, something you've recently come into possession of; something quite interesting." the king said, trailing off a moment to leave Chrom guessing at what he could be insinuating. "A certain urchin picked up from the sea."  
The analogy went right over Chrom's head, he simply ground his teeth in annoyance.  
"Oh for goodness sake Chrom, the girl."

Realization lit up in Chrom's eyes, then quickly turned back to anger.  
"What could you possibly want with her?"  
"Well I could tell you, but it's unfortunately none of your business. But this does leave you with an interesting set of options. You can trade me your national treasure, or you can trade me some stranger girl from across the sea. She has... peaked my interest."

Chrom stood there for a long moment, completely baffled.

"At a loss for words? How about this then. Run back to your little town where you have the rest of your men stationed. I shall give you exactly twenty-four hours to return with whatever it is you've decided to trade for your wee little princess."

Chrom still didn't answer. His hand fidgeted with the hilt of his sword agitatedly.  
"My Lord, we really should go back to town and weigh our options." Said Sully, trotting her horse up next to him. He waved his hand at her dismissively, taking another step toward Gangrel.

"How do we know you're going to make good on your word?" Chrom demanded.

"You don't." Said Gangrel jollily, breaking into a long laugh at Chrom's reaction. "But you don't really have a lot of options here do you? Now be gone. I'm not going to waste any more of my time on your prattling nonsenses."

With that, Gangrel made an about face, letting his cloak whip around pompously, and walked back, disappearing between the legion of his men. The men shot Chrom and his knights an army's worth of dirty looks as Chrom remounted his horse and trotted off, his two knights following close behind him.

• • •

Before long, the three made it back to the town.

"Hey Everyone, there back!" Rick called from the top of the 'watch tower' he had made. (It was honestly not much more than a few boxes stacked on top of each other). He hopped down and ran to the gate.

"Chrom, how'd it go?" He asked as the group rode past him. The prince didn't answer, didn't even look at him, just stared ahead, stone faced.

The rest of the Shepherds were pooling out of the barracks, waiting for any kind of news.

Barley was near the front, trying to catch Chrom's eye. Sully noticed her, if Chrom hadn't, and pulled forward, putting herself between the two's view. She looked conflicted.

Chrom didn't say a word. He pressed straight through the clamoring Shepherds, riding straight to the stables.

Barley didn't follow with the rest of the group; she could guess what had happened, it had already happened twice, both in the meeting with Liz, and the meeting in Ferox. Gangrel had made it very clear what he wanted, and if there was literally no way it could be given, they were in a very bad situation.

"Well gee, that was kind of weird. Normally he's not like that," Donny said, walking up behind Barley.  
"What do you suppose could have happened?"  
"Gangrel asked for something Chrom couldn't give." Said Barley simply, walking towards the barracks.

"You would think that Gangrel wouldn't be so hung up on this Eire Femblem doohickey; must be awfully important to him then. Ahhe, I don't know, what do you suppose we should do about it?"

But Barley was already gone, halfway to the barracks. She had a very interesting look on her face, one he recognized. The one she had worn just before she took the shot at the wyvern in the pass.

• • •

The rest of the day passed slowly.

Chrom disappeared into his study with a handful of his most trusted associates. The evening came and went, but Chrom still didn't show himself again, not even when the meal was served. After a few more hours of waiting, most of the Shepherds went to bed, still not knowing what to think.

As usual, Barley was the last one awake. She had picked herself another corner, and waited there until everyone else was gone. Once all was quiet, she stood up slowly, and made her way into the kitchen.

As quietly as she could, she started to go through the cabinets, looking for any provisions she could find. Once she had found she would needed, she hefted her pack onto her shoulders. There was a crash as the bag brushed a haphazard pile of cookery.

She instantly crouched low, slipped into a shadowed corner, but there was no other sound. She thanked her lucky stars that most of the Shepherds slept like rocks. After a moment of waiting, just to be safe, she streaked out of the kitchen, making for the door.

Barley stopped though, when she saw a glint of light out one of the windows. Kellam stood outside. Apparently he had taken it upon himself to keep watch. She ducked under the sill and crept backward, looking for another way out. Getting seen by Kellam wasn't high on her priority list.

• • •

Donny watched curiously as Barley backpedaled away for the window. He had been going to call out to her, but after seeing how strangely she was acting, he didn't know if that was a good idea. She covered the length of the room in a surprisingly short time, opened a window on the far wall, and silently slipped outside.

He stood there for a moment in surprise, then made his way to the window, to see why she could have possibly recoiled away from it like that. He didn't see anything at first, just empty field, then something moved, right next to the window. Donny tripped backward in surprise, before realizing it was Kellam.

This only made Donny more confused. He turned around and made his way to the open window, wondering if he should tell someone.

He got a glimpse of a small figure dodging toward the canyon, sticking to the shadows.

Donny grabbed his own satchel and nipped out the window and started to follow. There shouldn't be any harm in checking out the situation himself.

• • •

Barley moved quickly and quietly toward the canyon, sticking to the upward slope of the side. After a while, she struck what she assumed to be the path she and Donny had taken earlier that day.

Or was it the day before? She didn't know anymore, and honestly, she didn't care.

She didn't know what had gone on in the valley earlier that day, but chances were, there would be a few lingering Plegians there still. As it turned out, she was right. As she climbed higher, she saw that the entire canyon floor was decorated with the sparks of campfires.

It appeared not only was Gangrel still there, but he had brought a small army with him.

Barley briefly contemplated sneaking into the camp itself, but quickly banished the idea. There was no way that she could slip in without being noticed; it was best to just follow the original plan.

She continued on in silence, trying to cover as much ground as she possibly could. At daybreak, with that many soldiers around, staying out of sight was going to be much harder. It would be best to cover the length of the encampment before dawn.

There was a rustling behind her. Several thought rushed through her mind at the same time. One was that it was Kellam, who might have managed to see her when she had slipped out. Though on second thought, that probably wasn't the case, as Kellam could very likely sneak up on her without her ever even knowing. More likely, it was a scout, sent to make sure the Shepherds didn't try anything in the night.

She didn't pick up her pace, and she didn't look around her, she just continued straight on, heading for a bend in the path. As soon as she reached it, she ducked around it and crouched down in the shadow of a bush.

After a little while, she heard the sound of footsteps on the gravel. Slowly, a figure poked around the side of the bolder. Barley sat as far back in the bush as she could, hoping that the scout, if that was most likely what he was, moved on. She wasn't quite so lucky.

Whoever was following her was indeed doing just that, poking around in the bush to see if he could find her. Barley steeled herself, preparing her staff as the shadow got closer and closer. When the moment was right, she lashed out, bringing her staff down in an overhead swing.

There was a loud bang, the sound of metal against metal, which was quickly muted as the figure stumbled backwards. Barley jumped forward, ready to follow up the blow, but stopped when she saw Donny, sitting on his rear, holding his pan to keep the rattling down. His teeth were grit, and his face was contorted in pain from the blow.

Barley stumbled back as herself, completely shocked.  
"What are you doing here." She said in a hoarse whisper.

Donny tried to speak, but it trailed away in a pained groan.  
"Y-you really know how to swing that stick of yours." Donny moaned.

He groaned again, still keeping a white knuckled grip on his pot.  
"I'm so sorry." Said Barley "I had no idea it was you."  
"Yeah, I can't blame you for that. It's just that you looked all sneaky heading out back, and I was worried about you and..." He trailed off in another groan.

Barley grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.  
"What are you doing out here anyways Barley?" He asked.  
Barley stuttered over a few possible explanations, then sighed.

"I can't, you know what? Arrg." She trailed off again.  
"That... Doesn't sound good." Said Donny nervously.

"I'm going after Liz." Said Barley simply, deciding that just being forward was the best thing to do.  
"Ahhh." Said Donny, his eyes lighting up a bit. "Okay." Then it faded, and he looked nervous again. "But wouldn't it be a better idea to wait for the Shepherds?"  
"It would definitely not be a better idea." Said Barley. "I can move faster and quieter on my own, not a lot of people will suspect me because I've been with the Shepherds for such a short time."

"I guess that's a good point, but I don't know, you haven't exactly demonstrated how quiet you can be."  
"Donny..." Said Barley, putting her hand over her face.  
"Things just tend to… Explode around you."

Barley sighed again.  
"Just head back to the camp. And please don't tell anyone; the less people know where I went, the better."  
"That, that's definitely true." Said Donny, tapping his pot, then stopped.

"I have an idea actually. You know here's the thing," he continued, looking a bit mischievous, "I haven't been in the Shepherds very long either. As a matter of fact, I only joined say ah, probably round a week ago before you came and showed up."  
"But you're Yillisian." Said Barley. "If I get caught-"  
"Well, that's..."  
"Nobody can tie me to Chrom or Ylisse." Barley plowed on.  
"Technically, that's a technicality. And Technically, I'm Tilizian. We have no ties to the crown, and nobody's going to suspect little old me. And, most importantly, I am not leaving you alone."

"I can take care of myself." Said Barley. "If that's what you're getting at..."  
"Nope, nope nope no," said Donny, drowning out her refute. "That's my final answer, I"m not letting you go alone. I'm putting my foot down."  
"Donny, stop it.."  
"No. If you're going, I'm either going with you, or I'm going to get somebody else to go with you. And I don't think, you want me to do that."

Barley put her hand over her face again.  
"If we get caught out here in daylight, we are going to be in huge trouble. If you're coming, let's go."  
Donny gave an ear to ear grin, and started to march behind Barley as she wound further into the mountains, toward the Plegian border.

"You know, it's already really late Barley. Everybody's about asleep. How long are you intending to march here in the night?"  
"Until we get out of the range where they'll probably have scouts. I don't know what the Plegians are going to do, if they start moving back towards their own country, we'll be right in their way. Unless we find a spot they can walk right past without noticing us, I don't think it'll be a good idea to stop.

Donny gave a tired sigh.  
"So much for early to bed, early to rise."  
"You signed on to this." Said Barley.  
"True. Guess I can't really complain. Still, marching while dead tired isn't much fun either, and if we get caught out in the open, and use up all our energy tonight-"  
"It wouldn't matter much, we'd be in for it either way. It shouldn't be much farther though." she added, a bit more softly.

"I hope not."

They did eventually find a spot that suited Barley. It was a little bit longer than Donny would have hoped, but they did. Barley set up a watch, and let Donny get some rest.

She woke up Donny about mid what through the night, and got some rest herself.

• • •

Chrom woke up bright and early the next morning, just as the sun was rising over the hills. Leaving the temporary barracks to join the other early risers in the chill morning breeze.

This smaller barracks didn't have a proper kitchen, so there was a small camp fire made, where Gaius, their newest recruit, stood over a steaming pot of something. Probably soup, or stew. They had a lot of stew.

Whatever it was, smelled strongly of sweet potato.

Chrom stretched his stiff joints, some of them popping as he did, and looked over the quiet, half awake camp. There wasn't much being said, or even much sound at all other than the bubbling of the pot, or an occasional swish of Miriel turning the page of her book.

Chromed yawned.  
"Okay," he said sleepily. 'Where's Chris? Oh, right, Chris is missing." He gave a frustrated sigh. "Somebody needs to do something about that post haste. Can- can someone get me Barley?" He added, rather uncomfortably.

The camp didn't grow any louder. Just a few of them got up and poked around the camp.  
"Has anyone seen her? She's not in the barracks."  
There was a collective shake of everyone's head.  
Chrom gave a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
"Who was the last one who saw her?"

There was another moment of silence before Stahl spoke up.  
"Well I saw her when we got back from the meeting with Gangrel, and she was with us at dinner last night."

Miriel spoke next, a rare enough occurrence. She snapped her book shut and adjusted her glasses a bit.  
"I believe I last saw her in the study of the barracks. She was reading one of Chris's books, that was the last I had seen of her. She seemed distracted at the time. If you would like further details, I suggest you direct an inquiry towards Donny; he seems to have been spending a considerable amount of time around her."

Chrom nodded, looking around the camp again. Donny was usually among the early risers as well.

"So, where's Donny? Has anyone seen him?"  
"He might have gone out to scavenge like he usually does. Maybe, hunt something for breakfast that doesn't involve sweet vegetables." Stahl said, giving a glance at Gaius, who huddled protectively around his pot of sweet stuffs.  
"You're probably right." Said Chrom. "He should be back shortly then." Chrom said, moving to take a seat on one of the benches surrounding the fire. He didn't make it to his seat though, as he bumped into a large metal object.

"A-actually, I think..." Someone started to say, before Chrom jumped back in surprise.  
"Ehhyahh! Kellam! Stop doing that!"  
Kellam nodded sadly.

"An-anyways, I actually saw Donny last night. It was well past curfew, he was heading out the back gate. He seemed to be in a hurry, and I ah, never saw him come back by the end of my shift. Did, anyone else see him come back?"

There was more silence around the camp. Chrom looked like he was about to blow a vessel.  
"So, my chief tactician is missing, the new recruit is missing, and the mysterious traveler is missing. Do I have this all right? Yeah? Anyone? Good. Find them. Now."

And other than Gaius, who still had a responsibility to the food, the rest of the Shepherds were up, and scouring the barracks and the surrounding area for their missing members. In the process, waking up all the sleeping members, and getting them to help in the search. Before long, the whole camp was in a tizzy, searching the area for people who were, very clearly, not there.

"Excuse me my Lord, if you don't mind the inquiry," Miriel said when she bumping into Chrom amongst the mess. "Why exactly are we searching for the girl with such urgency? We were well aware that she had no ties to Ylisse, she may have just packed her bags and left, like she has been saying she would since the day we encountered her."

Chrom did not answer immediately. He gave her a flustered, frustrated glare, tossing around whether or not he should tell everyone why indeed he was looking for her.  
"It's complicated. And even if it wasn't complicated, we still need to find Donny. It's important okay. Please."

"That doesn't really answer our question. Why is it so imperative that we find this runaway? Donny I can see, but he will come back. I'm quite sure of it. He's proven himself loyal, and looks up to you as a hero."

Chrom took a deep breath, steadying his nerves.  
"Okay, here's how it is. Gather the Shepherds, and be ready to march." Miriel gave her leader a surprised look, before wordlessly trotting off. It took a bit, given the mess everyone was in, but eventually, Chrom had everyone around breakfast where he stepped upon his pseudo soap box and prepared to make another inspiring kingly speech.

"Shepherds, we have a problem. A short, female problem. I'm sure…" and then trailed off, letting his royal bearing fall to the ground. "You know what? Forget it. Barley is gone, and the mad king has demanded her in trade for Frederick, Cordelia, and my sister; it's either that, or the Fire Emblem. I don't know why he wants Barley, but between the Fire Emblem, and this foreigner girl who clearly... I don't know how, or why she's gone, it's just that the timing is too convenient. We need to find her, we just don't have a choice. I'm going to be taking several Shepherds to negotiate more time from Gangrel. In the meantime, I need the rest of the Shepherds to locate Barley, Donny, and Chris if possible." Chrom flapped his arms in utter exasperation. "That's all. Stahl, gather up our fighters, we ride on the hour. Miriel, organize a search party. Dismissed."

By now, everyone had finished their breakfast, depositing their bowls to their thief, who had officially been promoted to cook, before the group quickly made their way off. It didn't take too terribly long for Chrom and his small group to gather and start heading to the canyon pass.

• • •

Barley woke to Donny prodding her with a stick.

"Yo, Barley, get up, the suns up. We need to get moving, especially if we don't want the Plegians to catch us. I already got a little bit of food ready."  
"Look who's talking now." Said Barley, a bit groggily.  
"Yeah, you know, a little bit of food, a little bit of sleep, a little bit of food, and I'm ready to go. We've got a lot of hiking to do still.

Barley closed her eyes for a long moment, attempting not to roll them, then got up, and took the food Donny was offering her.

She had hardly started her meal, when the sound of a horn rang out from behind them. They both jumped up and looked in that direction.  
"That probably means we're going to have company soon."  
"I don't know, that doesn't sound like any horn I've ever heard." Said Donny. "There must be something big going down somewhere."

• • •

Two horn blasts sounded in Chrom's ear. He gave a frustrated sigh.

"Sully, really, I think they heard us." he said, waving dismissively. Sully blew the horn again, just for good measure, before looking apologetically at Chrom.

He gave gave her a rather unhappy look back. "Happy now?" He asked flatly. Sully gave a rather smug nod before letting the horn dangle from her saddle strap again.

Before long, Chrom and his group of Shepherds reached the pass. To Chrom's surprise, Gangrel was already there. His forces seemed to be significantly diminished compared to the previous day, though they still vastly outnumbered the prince's group.

"King Gangrel," Chrom said, acknowledging the Plegian's presence, though he didn't bother keeping the disdain out of his voice.  
"Well well, if it isn't the Ylissean princeling come back to talk. What is it you want this time? I don't suppose you come bearing the Fire Emblem, as I don't see any girls with you."

Chrom resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Something Sully didn't even bother to do.

"No, I've come to negotiate terms with you, we've run into some problems."  
Gangrel chuckled. "Now it's the Ylissean prince asking _me_ for things. Pray tell, why should I give anything you ask for?"  
"I think we've already established you're not getting the Fire Emblem. That's just not happening, but Barley is missing, and we can't find her."

Gangrel seemed to find this turn of events quite humorous. He stood there laughing in Chrom's face, Chrom growing redder all the time.  
"Well, isn't that an amusing turn of events. It's certainly fortunate that you took her in isn't it? Quite the way to repay your hospitality. What do you want?"  
"We need more time. A single day woudn't even be enough to retrieve the Fire Emblem if that's what we were going to give you, and if you are willing to trade for the girl, I ask for time enough to find her."

Gangrel hummed, turning the proposition in his head.  
"I suppose, if you're actually serious, and not insincere like that pig of a father of yours... thirty days. You have one month to make good on your side of the trade, and I will make good on mine. But after that, people will start losing their heads. And you wouldn't want that would you?"

There was a shocked silence.

Gangrel's smile grew even wider than should have been possible.  
"What's the matter boy?"

Chrom's face twisted into a snarl.  
"You'll get you what you want." He shot back, quickly pulling back on the reigns of his horse, causing the animal to wheel around.

"Oh, by the way," said Gangrel, looking thoughtful. "If you do happen to find her, and she doesn't want to come quietly, you might want to be careful. A cornered animal is a fearsome thing."  
Chrom, despite his better judgment, looked back over his shoulder.  
"I doubt she's going to give us any trouble. She just a girl."  
"A girl with a nasty bite." Gangrel's eyebrow arched in amusement at the looks he was getting. "Oh, don't believe me? Ask my commander, he met her first hand."

Several of the wyvern knights behind him moved aside, as a particularly large, nasty, and reasonably patched up beast came shambling forward, crawling along the ground. It took a bit for Chrom to realize why. A top it's back was a reasonably irritated looking rider, one that Chrom recognized to be commander Vask of the Plegian wyvern riders. His mount was even more displeased looking; it had large swaths of cloth wrapped around it's midsection, and it's wings were torn up quite badly. Bad enough to keep it from flying, likely permanently.

Chrom didn't answer, though his face clearly expressed the reaction Gangrel was hoping for. The mad king gave a slight chuckle, waving his hand dismissively.

Flipping around dramatically, his cape whipping behind like before, he marched back toward his homeland.

Chrom made his way off, seething, his men followed closely behind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 14**

* * *

Barley and Donny kept to the high paths, not knowing exactly what to expect after the horn blast. They had no idea what was going on, but they were reasonably sure that it didn't mean anything good.

One thing was for certain, sooner or later, Gangrel was going to go back to Plegia (if he hadn't left already), and if he did, they would be traveling alongside his whole force.

Picking through the underused paths was slower than either of them would have liked, even with their light gear and off-roading experience. Before long, Barley could hear a faint tramping behind them in the valley.

"Barley, stay down!" said Donny with an uncharacteristic sharpness, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her under an overhang.

"The Plegians are down there marching."

"I know, I know, I heard them." said Barley.

She bashed the mud off her back from where she had landed, and stopped to listen. It sounded like a decent body of soldiers, though whether it was the full force or not was impossible to tell.

Donny poked his head out from their hiding place, trying to get a better look. It was Barley's turn to pull him back, which she did rather vigorously. He gave her a slightly miffed look, Barley responded by glancing at his headgear. He took the reflective pot off and peeked out again.

The troop was indeed quite large, composed heavily of wyvern knights, which were for the most part, circling overhead, keeping watch. Donny retreated sharply back into his hole."I thought the Plegians were supposed to leave yesterday, this can't be good." he mumbled.

"I wish we knew what happened." said Barley.

Neither of them felt particularly inclined to move again with the sound of Plegian boots pounding outside.

"I think our best bet is to just let them pass... " said Barley.

Donny nodded and inched forward again.

"Who's that gaudy looking fellow in the front there?"

Barley inched forward and looked out herself.

"Gangrel." she said flatly.

"The Gangrel? As in, the mad king of Plegia?"

"That would be him."

"He looks like a jester of some kind. Heh, I guess they don't call him mad for no reason."

Barley chuckled quietly, despite herself. She had thought something similar the first time she had seen him.

"Hold on," said Donny, wiggling forward. "Is that Liz?"

It was, behind the king on his mount.

"But, why's she here? You don't think she was at the meeting do ya? It would explain why Chrom was so steamed…"

A wyvern swooped overhead, and Donny and Barley ducked back under the ledge. They didn't risk poking out again.

The troop made a good pace, and before terribly long, they had passed out of sight and hearing. Even then, they gave it a few minutes longer, just to be safe.

"This is going to make getting across the border kind of complicated." said Barley to herself.

"Well yeah, if you follow the path they're taking. The southern passes are much lighter guarded, they probably won't take that way." "How do you know?" "It's ah, pretty well known. There's a good bit of trade that runs that way, or at least there was before this mess…"

Donny jumped out of the crevice and helped Barley out after him.

"If we stick to the mountain here it should eventually end up taking us around south, plus, nobody should see us up here. That is unless of course you decide to use that noise cannon of yours again." Barley pulled a face, but nodded."How long will it take to reach the border?" asked Barley. "It's ahh, on foot, ehh? Well you see, I've never quite been to Plegia, the border was always as far as I had to go. Trading the crops was always done by the big people, but, if we keep this pace, half a day?"Barley nodded and started to trek in the direction he had indicated.  
"Also, if you don't mind my askin', do we even know where we're going?"

"Anywhere that I can pick up information. My initial plan was to more or less tail Gangrel's force, find out where they stop, and find a way to let the Shepherds know. The wyverns make that difficult though."

Donny was thoughtful for a moment. "I don't suppose you would be carrying a map?"

"Actually, I do. Liz gave me one."  
"Well spiffy. You don't suppose I could see it for a sec?" Barley slipped off her pack, set it in the ground, and started to dig through it. Donny was quickly over her shoulder, curiously inspecting the bag itself. He was facinated with it's funny opening mechanism, and all it's pockets and zippers, then his interest began to shift to the inside. Barley looked faster. She found the map and unrolled it, pushing in at Donny, between him and the backpack.  
Donny shrugged and switched his attention to the map, to Barley's relief, and scanned across the southern border.  
"You see, we're right here by the mountains, alongside the border," he said, pointing at a spot. "Right, right here, just across the border, before the valley starts, there's this little town. We trade with this village a lot, even some of the folks from my village have been there. It get's pretty rocky in Plegia, which is why we have lots of trade with them. Not a whole lot of farmland down here. Anyways, that way's our best bet of crossing the border out of sight, and that town would be nice place to check in on, maybe get some supplies. From there we can bounce around these little towns, find out where the king went, and catch up with him just like you wanted to."

Barley nodded. She went to take the map back, but Donny didn't seem quite through with it yet.

"You know..." he said, giving the parchment a prod. " I think I could give a fair guess where they're headed right now. See, if the Plegians there stay on this road, they could take it all the way to the capitol. Unless they stop at that border fort we got stuck in, I'd wager that's where they'd be heading. And if we stick on the mountain, see right there? We stick around the mountains, that will lead us right to the southern gates of the capital as well."  
"It's as good a guess as we've got." said Barley. "And it won't hurt to head that way until we find something else."

Donny gave a rather self satisfied grin.

"Alright," said Barley, sparing a smile back before putting the map away. "We have a plan, let's get moving."  
"Forward march!" trumpeted Donny, leading the way. and they started off again. Donny kept the lead for the rest of that day; as he had said, he had been that way a few times before. It was late afternoon by the time they reached the border, crossing it was easier than even Donny had anticipated. They didn't even realize they had crossed until the ground took a downward slant. As they descended, the little greenery of the canyon disappeared, replaced by brown, dead looking shrubs, and a bit of yellow grass. On the way down they stumbled into an an ill maintained path dodging between the rocks, which they followed cautiously toward the village.  
"Looks see here Barley," said Donny, pointing down the hill. "You can see a little of the town over there. It shouldn't be more than hour now.  
"Once we get into town, we're probably going to want to get some new cloths. We don't want to be picked out by our appearance; mine in particular will probably grab more attention than we need."  
"Well that's true, you definitely look a bit odd." said Donny. Barley looked at him.  
"What? No, I mean that in a nice way. You ah, certainly have your own sense of style, but it's, it looks good on you." Barley didn't respond, just hiked up her backpack and tromped forward.  
The town they were coming up on wasn't terribly large, but it was surrounded by a reasonably sturdy wall; the place obviously had a history of encountering seemed to get increasingly tense as they approached. "How are we going to..." She trailed off, and slowed her pace, inspecting the fortifications. Donny looked at her curiously.  
"Getting in here may be tricky." She said, answering his unspoken question.  
"Well I supposed we would just go through the front gate," said Donny, a bit confused.  
"Except they probably have a guard stationed there, checking everyone's business."  
"Really? You figure? I never saw any town do something like that before."  
"The royal city does it."  
"Well, kinda? There are guards, but I ain't seen anybody asking any questions."  
"Because the Shepherds are the prince's' personal force, they wouldn't have to be stopped for any inspections."

Donny shrugged.  
"Well if you say so, but it would at least be worth it to check the gates. I know that any Ylissean towns out in the middle of nowhere, like my place, don't bother with guards and checkups or anything like that. People come and go as they please."  
"Well, I hope I'm wrong." Said Barley. They continued on until the gate came into view; Donny seemed surprised to see that there was indeed a single guard posted at the entrance.  
"Well phooey." He said.  
Barley slowed her pace to a trudge. Now they were closer to the town, there were a few other travelers on the road. She waited for them to pass by, watching how the guard greeted them. Maybe, if they were lucky, there would still be able to slip the other groups neared the guard, he gave them a tip of his helmet, nodding them into the town. Barley was unconvinced. There was the possibility that he actually knew the people. She was getting close to the gate now and didn't know quite what to looked around for Donny. He wasn't a few seconds of scanning, she spotted him only a few yards from the gate. He gave a slightly apprehensive wave to the guard, who simply gave him another one back, nodding again as he allowed Donny right swallowed the heart attack, and stepped in beside another group, slipping through the gate just as easily as Donny had.  
As soon as Barley made it in the gate, she looked around for was only a little ways away, near the far end of the courtyard; she came up behind him and put a firm hand on his shoulder. Donny whirled around, making a squashed kind of yelp, but smiled when he saw who it was. "See, I told you it would work." "It's a good thing it did, or I'd have to be saving you in addition to everything else."

Donny's expression flattened at her tone.

"Oh, It's eh, I wasn't tryin' to cause any trouble... I mean, okay... I won't do it again." Barley sighed "Okay, first things first, we need to find somewhere to get some clothing."She turned around and made for the open market, which was stationed just inside the gate. It took Donny a minute to pick himself back up after his scolding, but after a moment he hopped after Barley, covering the distance she had gained on market place area was still reasonably busy, given the late hour, with various wares being traded quite loudly among the stalls. They poked around a bit before finding a stall that sold local apparel. Barley and Donny both picked out something plain, changing in the stalls the shop provided for that purpose."Iii'm not so sure about this Barley, this stuff is scratchy." Donny said uneasily.  
"It's not a ton different than what you were already wearing." Observed Barley, with a slight cock of the head.  
Donny gave his new outfit a look over, then kind of nodded in agreement.  
"Ehh, that's true. I guess I'm just used to my old stuff."  
"I can understand that. But there's not a lot that can be done about it…" "Yeah…" said Donny, though he still didn't look very keen on the situation. "I can keep my pot though, right?" He asked hopefully.  
Barley smiled. "Yes you can keep your pot."  
Donny did a little victory cheer."So, where to now?" He asked.  
"We probably shouldn't stay here very long." Said Barley. "It might be better to go to the next town before we do too much digging around for information."  
"Alright then," said Donny, though he sounded a bit unsure. "Are we going to try to get a cart, or just try to walk? " "We should probably check how far away the next town is before we decide." "Yeah, that probably a good plan."  
They came to a stop in another courtyard, this one significantly smaller and quieter than the last one. They took a seat at one of the empty tables on the outskirts, Barley produced the map yet again, and Donny went to looking over it."Hmm." He said, poking at the parchment. "If we leave here now we could probably make it to the next town on foot before dark, then stay there the night."  
Barley nodded. She didn't particularly like the idea of staying the night in an inn, but in all honesty, staying outside of one would be much more suspicious if anyone happened to stumble upon them. "That's what we'll do." She said, standing up.  
The two of them packed the map back up, secured the rest of their supplies, and started to head for the back gate. The back of the town was well shaded. Instead of the loud noises of market, the few people who were here spoke in hushed whispers. Barley leered around suspiciously.  
"I don't like this." She said quietly.  
Donny nodded and pulled her along toward the gate.  
"Yeah, I can get that out here, mercenaries, and whatever else people do these days that's not good. Ne'er-do-wells. Black marketeers." He rambled, glancing around him anxiously, as if trying to pick out an example of each of these things. Barley was getting the sense that his rambling was intentional. Something to focus on instead of their surroundings. Though whether it was for her sake or for his own she couldn't tell. "What do you black market around here?" Asked Barley, for much the same reason, more to herself than to him. Donny however, took the question at face value.  
"You'd be surprised at what people can find. I don't know how any black market you know about works, around here a lot of it just tends to be stolen goods and stuff. You'd be amazed by some of the things that get pulled out of the treasuries of noble houses." "I believe that." Said Barley, "At least it's better than what goes through the black markets where I'm from."Donny seemed confused. "Eh.. Then what does go through your black markets then?" "It's... Not a pretty subject." Said Barley, regretting having spoken in the first place. "Things that are deemed too dangerous to use for one."  
"Why don't people get rid of them then?" Asked Donny.  
"Because some people want them. 'Too dangerous' is something that some people would like to have."  
"I guess, I guess I can understand . I don't really want to. But here, come on, let's get out of here, the gate's right there." Said Donny, cutting the conversation short and putting on a little extra speed.  
Barley huffed, a gruff sort of relief as they made it back onto the open road. She took the front, reinstating her long traveling stride, leaving the town in the dust.

The rest of the day passed by uneventful; the uneven rolls of hills rippling off the canyon disappeared as they went on, the rocks became smaller and smaller, and even the prickly shrubs trees became sparse, leaving the two in full blown desert. So far, they had only encountered one or two other groups, both driving carts.

One of them looked to be a group of soldiers.

When the cart was well passed, Donny remarked that they were probably headed the right direction. Why else would they be moving carts of soldiers?

This was more an attempt to break the silence than anything else. The quiet since they had left the city was stifling. Or, at least, it was stifling Donny.

Barley felt a little guilty; at first she had been quite frazzled, and and not really in the mood to talk, but as the trip wore on, the silence was more due to lack of conversation topics than anything else.

Duplica was the one who usually initiated any on-road chatter. Barley was actually kind of surprised how much she relied on her cousin for that.

Donny on the other hand, seemed afraid to say anything at this point, probably because he thought Barley would shoot him down.

She had done that a lot to him, Barley realized, feeling rather ashamed again.

"Soo, eh, Barley." He began, after a particularly long stretch of silence.  
When Barely didn't respond, Donny hesitated, then decided to risk plowing forward anyways.  
"About this eh, black market thingy you got. What are these things you eh, can't have?"

"Ehuhh," said Barley, tugging at her backpack straps uncomfortably. She could have sworn Donny flinched.

He didn't keep talking, and Barley rolled the question around in her head a bit. In retrospect, she should have been more careful talking about things like that here. Then again, what harm could it really do? People would probably think she was crazy, but that wasn't exactly new information.

"There are a lot of things, anything more specific?" She asked finally.

Apparently, whatever response Donny had been expecting, that was not it. He hummed and hawed for a moment, not seeming to know where to take the question.

"Well, eh, I don't know, anythin'. I'm just curious I guess." He said. "Um... I'm just kinduh interested; I meant, what kind of sticks could you be swingin at each other wherever you're from?"  
"Well, like you saw, people don't only swing sticks." said Barley .  
"Are things like your little noise tube, common?" he said, his voice treading dangerously close to a squeak.  
"Yeah..."

Donny's face went pale, if only for a second.  
"That, is frightenen." He said earnestly.  
"Well, there is armor that works against it," said Barley reassuringly.  
"That, is also kinda frightenen."

Barley just shrugged.

"I'd rather have it than not. And there are other thing to counter it. Things that make it so weapons won't work , stuff to make it so the person holding the gun can never fire in the first place. And you can always just not get seen. The best thing you can do is to stay out of trouble in the first place."

Donny was downright incredulous.  
"I just- Why do you people even fight? I mean cuz like, your little-" he spluttered and waved his arms, trying to even describe it. "You're _Thing_ , shot down a _wyvern_ , farther away than the record holder for javelin tosses. What could you possibly need _everyone_ carryin' stuff like that around for?"

Barley paused again, trying to break down the subject to a digestible size.

"Well when everyone has something, and everybody knows the ways to defend against it, it becomes normal. It's not special anymore, everybody fights about the same stupid stuff. They just have different tools to fight with. More powerful things doesn't change the way stuff works."  
"Why would people even make things like that though?" Asked Donny.  
"Everyone wants an edge." said Barley, then hesitated again. "And there are a lot of... Not humans where I'm from."

"...Not humans." Said Donny, confused. "You mean like ehh, miss… miss rabbit lady?"  
"Kind of." Said Barley. "When you're something small, and there's something very large that lives nearby, you tend to try and find ways to compensate."

"Well what keeps the very large things from making things even larger?" asked Donny.  
"That's the problem. But nobody's ever going to figure that out. Things just keep getting bigger and bigger, eventually there comes a point where that's just not sustainable anymore..."  
"Eaahh..." Said Donny pulling a thoroughly strange face.  
Barley chuckled in spite of herself, then sobered.  
"It's just how things work when people don't think. Or think they can beat the wrap in the end. It doesn't matter which."

"That's kind of unfortunate really," said Donny. "Around here, all we can get are bigger swords."

"And like I said," continued Barley, trying to change to a more hopeful note. "There are caps on what people allow. There are rules, and some things everybody agrees are just too powerful."

"But you just said people use them anyways!" Interjected Donny urgently.  
"Yeah, there are some people who don't respect those rules, but not the majority.

And weapons aren't the only thing people go to the black market for."

"That's really too bad." Said Donny. "I don't know why I'd ever want to be where you're from."  
"Well how is it any different here?" Asked Barley, a little defensively.

"Things are.. Smaller?" Offered Donny.  
"Just give it time."

"Well it's been his way as long as anybody can remember. as long as the history books can remember. Actually, in the history books, things seem to used to be bigger, and then they got smaller… Huh." He trailed off.  
"How'd that happen?" Asked Barley.  
"I don't know." said Donny. "The history books left that part out."

Barley shrugged. She didn't know enough about the subject to argue one way or the other.

"Where I'm from isn't as bad as all that," said Barley. "There are a lot of great people there. I just keep an eye on all those sorts of things. It pays to be informed, makes things like that easier to avoid."  
"Yeah, that's true." Said Donny. "I guess I never gave that sort of thing much thought. Back in my little village, things like that never came out that way." Donny sighed "I miss my village. I hope ma's doin alright with the farm. The risen have been a mess lately."

"Chrom and group seem pretty on top of that." offered Barley.  
"Yeah, but they can only be so many places at once." Pointed out Donny.  
"Yeah... Don't you have some sort of local militia or something?"  
"Well kinda. People tended to know how to fight, but I don't know, after the last war, Emmeryn had most military groups disbanded as a show of peace."  
"Wonderful." Said Barley, with more than a little sarcasm.  
"Well we still have more than the Shepherds. Of course there's the army."  
"At least that's somewhat comforting." Said Barley, a bit flatly.  
"Hey, they're not all that bad. Honestly, we haven't really needed them before now. And I'm sure they'll... people come together. They'll defend themselves. People do that, w e survive."

This last sentence was said with a burst of energy that had been somewhat lacking in the last little bit of conversation. Barley laughed again. Donny smiled too, though he looked just a little sheepish.

"I guess I'm just a bit bias on this subject." Said Barley. "Where I came from, there's always militia."  
"Yeah, by the sound of what you've told me, I would definitely hope so."  
"It's not like that in all countries. Just the one that I'm living in currently."

"Hmm." Said Donny. "You certainly seem to get around. Wherever you're from, and goin' places, and now you're here and goin' places. I hadn't even left my village until I joined the shepherds."  
"It's a bit of a mess."  
"I guess. Honestly, I think you're lucky. I always wanted to go adventuring."  
"It's not all it's cracked up to be."  
"Well I'm having fun. I mean, fighting the risen is kind of a pain sometimes, and you get more than your fair share of scratches, but I've enjoyed my adventure."  
"But you have somewhere to go back to when it's over." Said Barley.

Donny frowned. He started a few things, but always trailed off.  
"I'm sorry." He settled on finally.

"It's not all that terrible. The place I've been settled down in is nice. The people are great. It's honestly not bad, all things considered. It could be a lot worse. It almost was a lot worse... But anyways..."

They walked on in silence again, the conversation having killed itself spectacularly.

It was starting to get late. The sun was brushing the clouds blanketing the horizon, casting them into an array of orange and purple hues. Barley wondered what they would do if they couldn't make it to the next town before the closing of the gates. Camping wasn't out of the question, but in an open place like this, it would be far less than ideal.

Her contemplations were disturbed by an odd rhythmed thumping behind them . It sounded like a small herd's worth of footsteps, and they were growing progressively louder. Barley looked back cautiously, and in a way that she hoped was discreet. A ways down the road, dark in the evening light, looked between twelve and fifteen armed men moving at an alarming pace. Barley motioned to Donny, who was in the middle of taking his own squint at the situation. He looked about as concerned as she was. Watching a pack of mercenaries bear down on you will do that, or maybe Barley's paranoia was just rubbing off on him.

They quickened their step, hopefully not enough to make them look suspicious, but enough to keep the group from gaining on them too fast, watching for a place to duck off the road. Barley was getting decidedly uneasy; the group was still gaining on them quickly, and she didn't know what to do about the situation.

As they got closer, she began to pick out details more than just the human shapes.

There was another, smaller person running ahead of the pack; it looked like a young girl.

So maybe she and Donny weren't the ones the group was interested in.

Barley skidded to a halt, causing Donny to slam into her. She grabbed his hand and dragged him behind a stand of medium-ish rocks off the side of the road.

"What are you doing now?" he panted, as she looked back around at the mercenaries again.

It really did seem like the girl was the one being chased. She was tearing up the path like her life depended on it, continually glancing over her shoulder; she looked exhausted, and completely terrified.

Barley's countenance darkened, and she extended her staff, glancing around at the terrain. It was a little uneven, with a stand of dead trees and shrubs not far away. Good enough.

When the girl finally caught up to their hiding place, Barley snatched at her, grabbing her arm and dragging her behind the rock.

She immediately lashed out, scratching, biting, whatever she could do to get away. Barley pushed the girl back, minimizing the damage she was about to inflict.

"Keep going, run."

She looked at Barley, then at Donny, them back at Barley.  
"Go!" hissed Barley, ducking herself low and making for the shrubs.

The girl ran too, taking to the rockier parts, quickly passing the both of them. They followed the best they could, watching and listening for any mercenaries that followed them off the road.

They could hear frustrated cries behind them, and a loud commanding voice bellowing instructions. There was the thick tramp of boots and the rattle of weapons as the mercenaries spilled off the path into the sand, snarling oaths as they went.

The girl heard them as well, and increases her speed, streaking across the terrain with a surprising amount of agility given her haggard appearance. Barley and Donny were afraid they would lose her, that is, until she nearly fell into a depression in the ground.

It was almost invisible until you were right on top of it, some kind of pit trap, or dried up well surrounded by an uneven rim of loose rock. Donny didn't hesitate, he plowed straight forward, sliding across it's shifting rim.

"Come on miss," he said as he reached her, and dropped down into the hole with a soft puff of sand. The girl followed, but Barley hesitated, then she slipped down as well.

"This is a bad place to be..." She muttered, pressing up against the side of the pit.  
"Well if you got any other places to hide I'm all for that Barley," Donny said, rather shortly. He crouched against the side as well, his spear held ready. They watched tensely for any movement around the lip. The girl huddling behind a rock, just behind Donny, taking deep, haggard breaths.

This was the first time Barley had really managed to get a look at her.

Her hair was wild and unkempt, what little of her garb was left was frayed and battered. The most dominant part of her attire was a metal collar strapped around her neck, a mangled chain dangling limply from it. She was obviously not human.

Barley grimaced at her condition, it was no wonder she was trying to escape.

Someone tramped by overhead, uncomfortably close. The noise of the mercenaries was everywhere around them now. They had spread out in their search, effectively surrounding the group cowering in the hole.  
"Maybe this was a bad idea..." Donny muttered to himself.

Barley glanced around for anything in the pit they could use to their advantage. There wasn't much. She wondered if it was worth trying to peek over the lip.

There was a crash, and a mercenary fell into the hole. He landed face down, and didn't move. The whole group scrabbled away as if the man was a snake. Barley's inclination to go peeking over the edge was completely gone.

They sat still as their new companion, listening. The sound of boots and weapons seemed to have moved off a bit. Donny gave a silent signal for the girls to stay where were, and scrabbled up to look out of their hole.

After a few seconds he clambered all the way up, waving the others to follow.

There were a few other mercenaries scattered around on the ground, but none were moving. The group just stood there for a moment, thoroughly confused, trying to decide which way to run now.

Everything had gone eerily quiet.

Suddenly, there was the ring of metal, causing the girl to jump, and bolt. Barley grabbed her shoulder, directing her towards the clump of dead trees and shrubs, craning her neck to see where the sound had come from as she ran. Eventually she found the source. A short distance away, mostly concealed by a particularly large bolder, were two of the mercenaries, and they seemed to be fighting.

Barley didn't know what to make of it, but any way you sliced it, it was a stroke of good luck.

Donny and the girl were almost to the trees by now, Barley sprinted after them.

"So, Barley," Donny whispered as she caught up. "You usually have a plan right about now."

"Something's gone wrong and the mercenaries seemed to be fighting each other." She said quickly. "If we're careful, we could probably just slip away."  
"Well that's convenient." Said Donny. "So how do you expect us to get out of here?"  
"Just get far enough away? It's not like our tracks will last long in this sand."  
"I suppose that'll work."

They were in among the trees now. They were all but dead, and didn't give as much cover as Barley would have liked, and their pace had slowed considerably picking through the bramble. The girl picked through ahead of them, slowing up every once and again to make sure they weren't falling too far behind.

A sharp whistle rang out behind them. Barley whirled around to see a mercenary among the brush not far away. They started to run again, crashing through the brittle branches, dodging between the brush, the mercenary following close behind.

Barley let herself drop to the back, ducking behind one of the thicker trees. The mercenary didn't even seem to notice, he was too keenly focused on the girl. When he passed her hiding place, Barley lashed out at him, catching him in the side of the head with her staff. The man went down with a groan and a thud, clutching at the spot. Barley grimaced at her handiwork, and ran again.

There were at least two other mercenaries tailing them now, alerted by the first man's whistle. Barely ducked behind a shrub as they came charging through the underbrush. She let them pass her, not daring to take them both head on. They stopped again and glanced around, looking for their compampanion, then charged forward.

They had spotted the girl and Donny

Barley abandoned her hiding spot and shouted a warning. Donny glanced over his shoulder and groaned.

There was no way the two of them could outrun them, Donny whipped around, braced his heels into the ground and raised his spear, the girl hiding behind him. He gave her a quick nod.

"Umm, you just stay behind me, little miss, I'll keep you safe," he said, doing the best he could to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

The mercenaries were almost on top of them now. They seemed quite amused by Donny's attempt, slowing to a confident swagger. It was obvious they felt they had the situation well in hand, and considering that both of them were probably twice the farm boy's size, the confidence was not unfounded.

This was not having a positive effect on Donny.

Just as the first mercenary stepped forward to bear him down, another figure jumped over a rock, wielding what appeared to be a small log. He swung his unwieldy weapon in a long arche, sending the man straight to the ground. The second was more lucky, just managing to just duck the blow. The newcomer, unable to break the momentum of his log, just let go of it, and plowed straight into the other man. He ducked the mercenaries first cross slash, and landed a hefty uppercut on the man's chin. There was a flinch inducing clack as the man's teeth crunched together, and down he went.

Donny wasn't sure which was louder, the sound of the man hitting the floor, or the uppercut hitting his jaw.

The burly man took the downed mercenary sword and slid it into his own sheath before turning to face Donny, taking a few slow, deliberate steps toward him. Donny couldn't help but shake under the large man's shadow.

"Oy, little boy try face mercenaries," he said in a think, clearly northern accent. "That not good idea out here all alone. Aren't you little small to be wandering these roads?"

Barley skidded past the mercenary, sliding to a stop beside Donny, and raising her staff level, making a wall between them and the man. Donny seemed relieved to see her.

The man just gave a hearty laugh.

"You have little girl with you too, how cute. What brings your company out this way?"

Barley didn't answer anything, as usual, and Donny realized that he was probably the one who was going to have to deal with this situation. He shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Barley, eyes pleading, 'please help me'.

The little girl behind them hissed loudly at the mercenary, who chortled again.

"Ah, I see Gregor making you nervous." he said understandingly. "Gregor has that effect on people. His presence is rather awe inspiring."

Barley's expression soured at his boasting.

"Aw, don't be like that little girl. You know Gregor just joking."

"Ehh," said Donny nervously, plucking up his courage "But you were with the mercenaries, we saw you. What are you playing at?...Sir,"

"That is… good question," said the mercenary, thinking over how best to explain himself. "You see, Gregor, quit working for employer after, ehh, disagreement. Of course," he added, more to himself than to anyone else, "Gregor might not get new work any time soon. Beating up employer generally.. Bad idea."

"Well why'd ya do it then?" asked Donny "It doesn't make any sense. If you were with the mercenaries then why would you, eh, beat em up, like you said."

"Gregor kill people for money," He said matter of factly. "That is Gregor's job, and Gregor very good at job. Been doing it for long time. But Gregor did not sign on to capture little girls. That is not how real man operate."

Slowly but surely, over the course of this conversation, the girl in question had been inching away. Donny and Barley had picked up on this fact, and had not lowered their weapons slightest bit.

Gregor seemed to have noticed her slow inch as well.

"Ehy, where do you think you're going little dragon girl?" he said, stooping down a bit. "How you think you escape in first place? You think ropes so easy to break? You only escape because Gregor allow it."

Gregor took another step forward, only to find himself pushed back by the blunt end of Barley's staff. He held up his hands defensively, taking the same step in the opposite direction. The words did seem to have an effect on the girl though, as she had stopped trying to leave.

"Gregor apologize, Gregor not trying to scare you, or intimidate you. Gregor not trying to scare little children. Here, actually," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Gregor probably should have lead with this. I have something for you."

The man produced a rough looking green stone, and held it out at arm's length on his open palm. The girl's eyes immediately lit up, and she ran straight past Donny and Barley to snatch the stone from the man's hand. Gregor immediately backed up a bit, and raised his hands again, attempting to look as nonthreatening as possible. The girl cradled the stone close for a moment, seeming to forget her surroundings, and muttered something unintelligible. Donny and Barely looked at the girl, then back to Gregor, confused.

There was a moment of terse silence, before the girl straightened up, and spoke for the first time.

"Thank you," she said, a warm glow filling her face, "They took it from me when I was first captured. How did you get it back?"

Gregor gave a hearty laugh.

"Boss have a little too much to drink last night, it not hard for Gregor to take it. Gregor only waiting for stone to put plan into action."

"How long have you been planning this?" asked the girl.

Gregor shrugged.

"Only since he get hired and see captured dragon."

She looked thoughtful at this.

"Then it was you who kept leaving your food, wasn't it . And you kept the other men off when things got too rowdy…"

Gregor smiled hugely. "Well, Gregor not like to brag, but yes, you are right."

The girl flew forward and gave the man a hug. He absorbed the shock easily, and laughed again, patting her head. Barley and Donny were still a bit confused.

There was a cracking in the bushes a little ways off, shattering the moment.

"We need to keep moving." said Barley. "We aren't safe yet."

"That good plan." said Gregor.

* * *

 _A/N: Ayyye. Writing during the holiday season is kinda hard. Almost as hard as writing Gergor's accent. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the new chapter. As always, thanks a bundle for reading. Reviews are always appreciated._

 _Cheers~_


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